Sorrow's Pain Extras
by Small Black Kitten
Summary: Extras requested by the readers of Sorrow's Pain. Suggestions welcome! All are for fun!
1. Chapter 1: Nightmares

"Well hello, slave girl." The man said with a twisted grin on his face.

Sorrow swallowed nervously, not sure what to do. "My lord? Is there something I can do for you?" She asked quietly.

"So shy. How did he manage to get you? Flattery?" The man asked.

"What do you mean?" Sorrow asked, rather confused. She had a bad feeling about this man.

"The Prince of course. You two are just so happy together. Too happy." The man said, his twisted grin dropping into an evil glare.

"I don't know what you mean." Sorrow said quickly, swallowing nervously.

The man grabbed Sorrow roughly by the arm and pushed her until her back hit the wall painfully. She whimpered in fright. The man leaned forward and whispered into her ear. "Don't you remember me? I promised you my affections only a few years ago." His breath tickled her ear.

Sorrow's heart pounded heavily in her rib cage. "I don't remember you." She whispered urgently.

"You should. Look closer." The man said.

Sorrow's eyes widened in horror as the man started laughing. But it wasn't the guard's laugh. It was cold and manically. It was Loki's. She watched as the guard's sandy hair started stretching longer, becoming a tar black, his light blue eyes hardening into icy cold ones. He grew taller and slimmer, a grin stretching across his pale face. It was Loki. And he was laughing. "Did you really think I would ever love a slave?!" Loki barked out a laugh. His mocking rang in her ears.

"This isn't real…" She said in a whisper.

Loki grabbed her chin, forcing her to look up at him. "It is more real than you think, fool!" He sneered. Sorrow felt tears sting her eyes. He shoved her into the wall harder.

She gasped. "Loki… you're hurting me!" She felt panic flutter in her heart.

Loki smirked."Good." His hand gripped her neck, choking the life out of her.

"Stop!" She choked out.

"Why, my sweet little whore? Does it hurt?" His hand tightened around her neck, his fingers becoming icy. They burned her skin with cold. Her head started to pound. She could feel her neck freezing over, making it impossible to breathe and excruciatingly painful at the same time. Tears slipped down her panicked face as she made one last attempt to plead with Loki. "You. Are. Nothing. To. Me." He spat slowly, each word like a blade through her heart.

"Sorrow!" She heard Loki shout, but it wasn't the Loki that was choking her.

Her deep blue eyes bolted open as she was startled awake by the dream. Loki was leaning over her, resting on his elbow, his hand on hers. Sorrow looked from his hand to his worried features. His black hair was a little messy, his pale chest bare, rising and falling. "Sorrow?" He whispered again.

Sorrow wiped the tears from her eyes and fell back onto her pillow. "I'm sorry…" She whispered brokenly. "For waking you…" She added after a moment.

"My Queen, I care not that you woke me. What haunts you?" he asked gently, his hand cupping the side of her face. Sorrow felt more tears leak out of her eyes. She started sobbing, her chest shaking with silent cries of terror. She felt Loki's strong arms wrap around her and pull her to his chest. He stroked her hair, whispering sweet nothings into her brown locks as he kissed the top of her head. He felt her hot tears splash onto his chest and the cold sweat clinging to her forehead stick to his cool skin. He rubbed his hands up and down her back, trying to sooth her. "Wipe away your tears, my love. I know not what dark visions plagued your dreams, but it must be a heavy burden. I do not expect you to tell me, but perhaps it may lessen the weight.…"

Sorrow met his icy blue eyes. She remained quiet for a moment, her eyes closed, trying to push away the images. "Do you… truly... care for me?…" She asked in a whisper.

Loki pulled her close into his chest once more. "Sorrow… my Queen… I love you more than anything and care for you above everything."

Sorrow shivered. "But I am… was… just a slave. How could you love me?!"

Loki brushed the damp hair that was sticking to her face with tears out of her face. His thumb ran over her cheek, wiping away fresh tears. "You were never a slave, love. Not to me. You were and still are an angel."

"No!" She pushed his chest, trying to get away, still shaken by the dream. She felt her head spin with confusion.

Loki let go of her momentarily, seeing how frightened she was. "Tell me of your dream." He whispered soothingly.

Sorrow pulled the green blanket to her face, breathing in Loki's scent, burying her face in the soft fabric. She took several deep breaths, focusing on the man next to her. His calming words, his caring eyes, his brows drawn together in worry. "He… he turned into you… and you were hurting me… and saying hateful things…" Sorrow started crying again.

Loki pulled her close against him, giving her a safe haven in which she could shed her tears without being judged. "It was a dream, love. Tell me who this man was who dared lay a finger on you, even in your dream." Loki whispered.

Sorrow sighed. "Brandt…. It was… it was the night… that night… and I was walking in the hall… and he was talking to me, and he turned into you…. and you were saying such hateful things… I am a fool… I'm sorry…" Her deep blue eyes drifted closed as tears continued to fall.

"You are a Goddess, not a fool. I would never do what that coward did. I would never hurt you. I will hold you all night if I must to make sure those dark visions do not return. When next you wake from dreaming, fear in your heart and a gasp in your throat, know this… Even before my name escapes your lips in a plea for my presence, I will be there." Loki pulled her back into his arms.

Sorrow placed a small kiss on his chest. "Must you use your sliver tongue at this moment?" Loki smiled lightly. "It comes naturally, love. And it is truth. I love you."

"I love you too…"

It was quiet for several moments more. Loki looked down at his wife who was now asleep. Her small body was pressed against his, her cheeks still damp, a sad look still on her face. Loki ran a hand through her silky hair before he kissed her forehead again, his lips lingering on her skin. "Sleep peacefully, Sorrow. I will fight away your demons."


	2. Chapter 2: The Balcony

Sorrow felt a heaviness in her eyes as she woke up. She had no idea what time it was, but it was late, perhaps midnight. She shivered as a breeze blew through the room. Loki always liked to keep the doors to the balcony open at night. She didn't mind it. But for some reason it was colder tonight.

She forced one of her heavy eyes to crack open, peeking out of her bundle of blankets. The room was dark, an almost purplish tinge to the light. She could hear the pitter pattering of rain, the salty smell woven into the breeze, and the growling of thunder outside as the rain wavered from a hard pouring to a light shower. She shifted under the blankets as she shivered once more, turning to face the other side of the bed, where Loki slept. He always slept on the side closest to the balcony.

There was nothing there. Her heart sped as she sat up, her eyes scanning the room for her husband. She touched the ruffled sheets next to her, but they were cold. He had been gone for a while. She felt herself start to panic. Where could he have possibly gone this late?

It was then that she realized there was a dark silhouette out on the balcony. It was undoubtedly Loki. His hands were gripping the rails tightly, his muscles tight and stressed. He was staring up at the sky, watching the flashes of light high up in the clouds as lightning played with the rain. He was shirtless, as he always was when he slept. It was too dark, but she knew what crackled across his back. The raised lines that ran across her own back. The scars only earned from a whip. Every time she saw them, they made her shiver. From memories or reality, she didn't know.

She thought about just going back to sleep, letting him work out whatever it was that was bothering him on his own. She had barely gotten any sleep the last few months with Hela constantly crying, needing to be fed, changed, rocked back to sleep, and a few minutes later woken again. But she couldn't leave him out there alone. Exhausted or not.

She swung her legs out from under the covers, goose bumps prickling across her skin at the sudden cold. She pulled her night gown down over her legs, straightening it as she stood up, brushing away the wrinkles. The pads of her feet made a dull thump as she made her way across the tiled floor she had, at one point, scrubbed over and over.

If Loki heard her coming, he didn't show it. He remained facing the storm.

When Sorrow finally walked out onto the balcony next to him, trying to keep her shivering under control, wanting to go back to the warm blankets that seemed to call to her, she noticed how stressed he was. His hair was disheveled slightly, his shoulders were tense, and his grip on the railing was turning his knuckles white. Thunder cracked overhead.

Drops of rain splashed lightly onto her face, but not enough to annoy. She took a step towards Loki, wondering what she could say. Why had she even come out here? Maybe he wanted time to himself and she was only bothering him. She turned to leave.

"You can stay, love." Loki's voice called gently over the storm.

Sorrow didn't say anything in return, but she walked up next to him. He was still tense.

"Are you alright?" She asked almost too quietly.

Loki sighed. "Peachy."

Sorrow refrained from rolling her eyes. It seemed that was his favorite word as of late. The silence resumed. She could tell his dreams had troubled him. There was a look in his eyes whenever They visited his memories. Fear. Unquenched fear. His eyes would be set in one place as he replayed the images in his head. It made her feel as though there was nothing she could do to save him from these nightmares. He had told her of the contents sometimes. Some, He had stolen Hela and killed the small infant in front of him. Others, it was about herself. Her packing up and leaving because he snapped at her or made a mistake. And the worst ones included everyone he cared about. Frigga, Thor, Jane, Hela, herself… and even Odin, though he would never admit it, not even to himself.

Sorrow's eyes traced over his lean figure. His tense shoulders. His defined muscles. His clenched jaw. His set eyes. She touched his shoulder and he immediately tensed once more, almost painfully so. Sorrow smiled quietly as she walked to face his back. Her hands were shaking from the cold now, but she began to knead and massage his upper back and shoulder blades.

Loki leaned into her touch, his eyes closing as her hands worked across his tense muscles, soothing them. He sighed in content as she rubbed his neck. "Where… where did you…." Loki could hardly form sentences as his thoughts went blank, only wanting to enjoy the feeling of her small hands massaging his scarred back.

"I learned quite a few things as a slave. You would be surprised."

They didn't know how long they were out there. The storm calming and raging as she concentrated on working her hands across his shoulders as he relaxed, almost falling asleep. When she finally did stop, her hands cramping and tired from the same motions, Loki was sitting on a stool they kept out on the balcony, his head leaning back onto her chest as she ran her hands through his hair, smoothing out the black strands.

"Loki?" She asked in a whisper. The rain had died down, but was still drizzling out of the sky.

Loki hummed in response, indicating for her to ask.

"Did you dream again?"

Loki's blue eyes opened slowly. "Yes."

"What was it about?"

Loki paused, as if recalling the memories he had almost forgotten. "It was very much the same dream I have had. Thanos, a barren planet, his whip." He stood up, reminding Sorrow how much taller he was than her. He turned towards the sky again, this time he was relaxed though, almost no tension visible. "It is funny how things you have seen a thousand times can still haunt you."

Sorrow stared at the scars on Loki's back. The pale scar tissue stretching every which way. She felt the scars on her own back tingle. She knew the pain of a whip. The stinging lash. The angry cuts that burned and seared and made you cry out as you moved or made you whimper in pain. The eyes on the back of your head. The cruel smirk of the one inflicted the pain. How many times had she wished for someone to embrace her and heal her and love her before she had finally given up and turned dull.

She wrapped her arms around Loki from behind. She felt him tense at the sudden contact. She felt his hands clasp over hers, wanting her to stay. She kissed his back tenderly, innocently. Her lips lingered on his skin as Loki shivered. He had been trapped in the world of pain for so long, he had not expected the soft, sweet touch of lips to his marked back.

They stood there, her forehead now resting on his back as she embraced him from behind, pulling herself close. No more words were spoken, for none needed to be.


	3. Chapter 3: Domestic Dispute

Loki dragged his feet through the door of their chambers, dropping his bag onto a desk. Sorrow came into the room, having heard him come in. She glared at him, her eyes flitting to the bag on the floor, his rain drenched armor dripping water into a small puddle. "Let me guess. You are going to let me clean up this big mess."

Loki sighed, pinching the bridge of his nose. "Are you still going on about that? That happened a week ago, Sorrow. Please drop it."

Sorrow had dark rings under her eyes, as if she hadn't slept at all in the past week that he had been gone. Usually she greeted him with a smile, embraced him, and asked him about his latest adventures. But not this time. This time, he could hear Hela crying in the background, saw that the kitchen was a mess, which was unusual as she couldn't stand anything being messy. "Speaking of a week ago, where were you this time? Alfheim? Vanaheim? Some other foreign land where they need you more than I do?"

Loki growled in frustration. "What do you mean by that?"

"I don't know! It would be nice to have you around now and then to at least help! Hela has been screaming and crying for the past four days straight!"

Loki picked up the bag he had dropped on the floor, exaggerating it as much as possible. "There. I am helping."

Sorrow rolled her eyes. "You know what I meant."

"As far as I am concerned, you wanted me to pick up my bag and not leave it on the floor." Loki pushed past her and set the bag on his desk dumping out all the documents he had brought.

"Why can't you stay at home for more than a few days?" She asked.

Loki ground his jaw in irritation. "I am a prince, Sorrow. I know you didn't expect it, but I have royal duties. Like diplomacy, so that we aren't invaded by elves or giants who want to burn and plunder their black guts out."

"I know what your royal duties are! Why do you have to treat me like I'm simple?" Sorrow snapped.

Loki ran a hand through his hair. "Because you ask questions with the most obvious answers! And I'm not treating you as though I think you're simple! You ask me why I can't stay home, I tell you it is because I have responsibilities, and you act as though I've insulted you!"

"I do not! It would be nice to have you home more often is all I was saying." Sorrow got a towel and started wiping up the rain water.

"You sure don't act like it." Loki grumbled.

Sorrow glared at him. "You don't seem particularly happy to see me either."

"I would be if you didn't snap at me as soon as I walk through the door. Do you know how hard it is to negotiate with dwarves? And then to come home and have to appease you."

"Appease me? Don't treat me like I'm another one of your royal duties!"

* * *

The bickering escalated until Sorrow finally stormed off to Hela's room, picking up the screaming infant and bouncing her gently in her arms, trying to calm the baby down. She heard the door to their bedchambers slam shut. She groaned in frustration, patting Hela's back as she continued to scream into her mother's ear.

An hour later, Hela was finally asleep. Sorrow set her gently in her crib, making sure she had a clean diaper, before wandering out into the living room. Loki's documents were in a big pile on his desk, some on the floor. There was food splattered all over the floor from Hela's fit, dirty pots and pans from cooking, several different bottles of milk lining the counters, and her toys spewn throughout the dining room into the living room.

Sorrow had figured out the Hela could teleport at random when she got too excited or happy. She would be in her crib one moment, in the kitchen the next, then half way down the hall the next moment after. Sorrow sighed as she saw an even bigger mess on the kitchen table from her effort to show Jane how to cook sauce earlier that day.

She sighed, feeling her head pound with a headache. She hadn't slept at all because of Hela. She had all sorts of tricks up her sleeve. She wondered if the baby got it from Loki or from being the Goddess of death, but she never slept. She could stay awake for hours, and was the most temperamental child she had ever had to deal with. She was happy, then she was angry, then she was content to sit and stare at the wall.

Sorrow started picking up, wiping up the mess on the floor, the extra sauce on the table and counters. She wiped off the counters, swept, mopped, and then started doing dishes, scrubbing the dried bits of food stuck to the bottom of each pan or plate. Then, she dried the dishes, putting them away and starting on the baby bottles. She washed each one out, dumping old milk down the drain. She picked up the various toys that scattered the floor and put them in a basket with the rest of Hela's playthings. Lastly, she straightened Loki's desk, putting his papers into a neat pile and cleaning up the water from his bag.

As soon as she sat down, having checked over her work, she was about to fall asleep when Hela started crying again. Sorrow's heart sank in her chest as she stood up, dragging her feet into the baby's room, picking her up, and sitting in the rocking chair. Hela's bright blue eyes gazed up at Sorrow, tears ceasing as she watched her mother's tired face intently. She started fussing a little, but quieted down as soon as she saw the necklace around her mother's neck. She smiled, grabbing for it with her chubby little hands.

Sorrow took her small hand away from the necklace. "You can't have that. No. You'll choke on it." She said with a smile, but weariness took the smile away quickly. Hela started crying again, forcing Sorrow to stand up and start bouncing her gently. "Please go to sleep." She whispered over and over into the infant's ear.

Hela started to calm down, hearing her mother's voice. After a while, she had gotten quiet, so Sorrow started to put her back in the crib. Hela's eyes opened again, an upset whine suggesting a huge crying fit if she left. Sorrow groaned. "Please, Hela. Sleep. Sleep sounds good, doesn't it?" She said gently, trying to get her to fall asleep.

Hela began crying again. Sorrow picked her up, cradling the baby in her arms. She bounced her gently and began singing softly.

"Whenever I hear the song of a bird,

Or look at the blue, blue sky;

Whenever I feel the rain on my face,

Or the wind as it rushes by'

Whenever I touch a velvet rose,

Or walk by a lilac tree

I'm glad that I live in this beautiful world

That is just for both you and me."

Hela was fast asleep, her eyes having begun to droop at the beginning of the lullaby. Sorrow placed her gently in the crib once more, tucking a light blanket around her chubby little legs and blowing out the candle that rested on the dresser. She slowly, ever so carefully, tiptoed out of the room, making sure that the door stayed open in case she woke up and started crying again.

She tried the handle to their bedchambers, having expected them to be locked, and found them open. She slowly turned the handle, not sure if Loki was asleep. When she opened the door to their bedchambers, the warm glow of a candle greeted her. Loki was sitting on the bed, a few papers spread out, his head in his hands.

She closed the door behind her. Loki didn't look up yet, which meant he was so distracted he hadn't even heard her. She knew she needed to apologize. It wasn't his fault she was so frustrated. She sat next to him on the bed, making sure to not sit on any of his papers. He finally looked at her, pinching the bridge of his nose. There were dark circles under his eyes, his skin paler than normal. He had changed into his sleeping pants, preferring not to wear a shirt while he slept.

"I'm sorry for snapping at you the way I did. It was unfair of me." Sorrow said softly.

Loki nodded slowly. "I must apologize for retaliating. I know Hela can be a handful."

Sorrow leaned her head on his bare shoulder and Loki wrapped a hand around her waist. He smiled, kissing the corner of her mouth before he went back to staring into space, his mind heavy. "What's on your mind?" She asked.

Loki sighed, releasing her and picking up all the papers on the bed, putting them in a neat stack on his nightstand. "I knew the old king of the dwarves. I was in good terms with him and had established trust between his kingdom and Asgard. We were good friends, I usually am with most of the monarchs of the nine realms. But a couple of months ago, his eldest son staged a takeover and killed him. The son is unwilling to negotiate with Asgard, and demands that we return all of the dwarven artifacts we Asgardians have 'stolen'. Including Mjolnir. Or else, he will unite with the dark elves and go to war with Asgard, making certain that the dwarves of Nidavellir never again make weapons for Asgard or any of her allies."

Sorrow took Loki's hand and made him sit next to her on the bed. "And I'm guessing Thor doesn't want to give Mjolnir back?"

Loki chuckled bitterly. "Oh, he almost gave Mjolnir back… to the dwarven prime minister's face. I had to stop Thor before he single handedly began a war over a hammer."

Sorrow blew out the candle and curled up under the blankets, Loki joining her. "What are you thinking about doing?" She asked.

Loki ran a hand through her hair. "I don't know. The new king is adamant about getting Mjolnir back, along with Gungnir and other key Asgardian weapons. I cannot agree, but to start a war with the dark elves and dwarves… it would forever destroy Asgard's relationship we had with them. We would have no dwarven made weapons, the strongest in the realm."

Sorrow's blue eyes flitted around the ceiling, pondering what she could say. "Is there another heir? An heir that was supposed to be king instead of the son that overthrew the king?"

Loki was quiet for a moment. "There are several. But to stage another coop could upset the people too much. To lose two kings in just a few months. The son's collaborators would surely pin this on us and start a war without any options to stop it. It's too risky."

"Isn't this all?" Sorrow asked. "Do you know why the son is doing this?"

"He claims it is because Asgard does not give the 'Mighty Dwarves of Nidavellir' enough credit, that we take them for grant and use them to our advantage. Dwarves are extremely prideful creatures." Loki said.

Sorrow put a hand on Loki's chest, over his heart. "Sounds like someone I know." She teased.

Loki smirked. "I don't know what you mean by that. And besides, if you think I am prideful, quadruple it and shove it into a midget. That's what we're dealing with."

"Have you tried negotiating with them? Offering compensation?"

Loki shook his head. "No. That would only encourage them. Soon they would find any way to try and gain compensation. It would run us to the ground."

"You've thought of everything, haven't you?" Sorrow asked.

Loki hummed in response. "Everything I can think of, that is. Today, the son refused to negotiate anything with me. He says I am too tricky."

Sorrow laughed. "You? Too tricky?"

"Yes. He says he will only talk with someone completely honest and wise, noble of heart as an Asgardian should be. Not some spoiled royal who is brash and stupid, or can weave lies out of thin air. Where would you find someone like that? Especially in Asgard. Thor is brash, I am tricky, none of the Warriors Three are sharp enough in politics to do anything, and Sif is the same as the warriors three. Jane is a former Midgardian who believes in science and would most likely offend the dwarves as they believe in magic. None of the councilman are honest, wise, or noble of heart. They are all idiots. Frigga and Odin are both in Valhalla, so they cannot be of any help…" Loki suddenly stopped, his eyes going wide. He sat up in bed quickly, his gaze fixed on her.

"What?" Sorrow asked, sitting up as well.

"Someone who is completely honest, wise, noble of heart. Someone who is the very opposite of me and almost every Asgardian. Someone who is kind beyond reason, yet fair."

"I'm not following, Loki. Who?" Sorrow asked.

"You." Loki whispered.

Sorrow flushed. "What? I'm not… I know nothing of politics, Loki."

"No, but you are smart. You are as smart as I am. It would take very little for you to learn. The new king thinks he has baffled us because there are only a rare few in all of Asgard who are actually noble and honest and wise, and so on."

"I think you are seeing things in me that are only partially there." Sorrow said, lying back down, pulling the blanket over her shoulder. "Now let's get some sleep."

* * *

Loki laid down, pulling the blanket over himself and resting an arm on her waist, cuddling up next to her, burying his face in her hair. How could she not see it? How kind she was, how honest and noble of heart she was. How wise she was. Not in the ways of the world, but in the ways of the heart. She was passionate about treating others with love. She woke early every morning to bake bread for the slaves. Sometimes it was muffins, other times it was fruit she had grown at her mother's house. And, occasionally, it was something sweet.

Loki kissed her neck. "I love you."

"I love you too." Sorrow whispered sleepily.

Not even a minute later, Hela started crying. Sorrow sighed, the dark circles under her eyes seeming to get darker as she slowly sat up, pulling the blanket off her legs and getting out of bed.

Loki grabbed her arm gently. "No, I will get her. You sleep. You have lost enough sleep already." Sorrow laid back down and buried herself under the covers. Loki placed a lingering kiss on her shoulder before getting out of bed and walking into the dark hallway towards Hela's room.


	4. Chapter 4: Loki's Trial

Loki smirked as he was lead into the throne room, chains around his arms and neck. Oh how he loved the measures Odin took to show that Loki was a threat. Loki couldn't help the smug glint in his eyes as he was pulled faster through the long walk to Odin's throne. The old man was frowning, weary, and exhausted. A little anger was in his one-eyed gaze as well.

When Loki got to Odin's throne, he stopped walking, clinking the cuffs on his ankles as he brought his feet together in a mocking salute. He had known this moment would come since that blasted arrow had been pointed in his face by the archer on Midgard, and he had asked for a drink which he had never received. At least they had the courtesy here on Asgard to take off the muzzle.

"Loki… Odinson… Do you understand the harm you have caused in the nine realms?"

"Oh, Allfather. I haven't touched most of the realms. Just a little vacation to Midgard was all." Loki laughed amusedly after he said that.

Odin was clearly not in the mood for Loki's snarky comments today. Gungnir hit the floor, sending a warning sound echoing throughout the massive golden room. "I will not tolerate this today. You know of your crimes. Now you shall know of your punishment."

Loki scoffed and rolled his eyes, his words dripping with sarcasm. "A punishment? I thought I was going to be set free to prance through the Asgardian fields, spreading rainbows and sparkles wherever I went." Loki's eyes shot to Thor, who was literally growling now. Loki snickered.

"Enough, Loki. Can you not take a single matter seriously?" Thor asked, anger wedged deeply into his voice.

"I apologize, brother. I didn't mean to make you angry." Loki laughed once more.

Odin stood abruptly. "The only reason you are not dead is because Frigga convinced me to lessen your punishment. You should be grateful."

"What if it was death that I wished for? Would you grant it to me, Oh Wise King?" A shadow passed over the young traitor's face. He had wished for death. Long or short, he had wished to be killed instead of being forced to live.

"Death would be a mercy to you, my son." Odin's weary voice echoed in Loki's head as the old king sat back down once more. "You are to pay for the lives you have taken-"

"What about Thor?!" Loki shouted, enraged. "He has slaughtered thousands of Jotuns, killed innocents in the name of adventure, and destroyed a peace treaty more than once! Why has he never been punished?" Loki suddenly felt like a small child, trying to pass some of the blame to the favored child.

"Do you forget that Thor has paid? That he was turned mortal and banished? Thor has learned his lesson, but you have not."

All was quiet for a few moments as Loki fumed. All those centuries of living in the shadows, taking the blame for Thor's foolish actions. All those times he had been spit upon, hit, cursed at because he had wanted to protect Thor's 'Honor'. And it all boiled down to the hard reality that he would never be loved as much as the one who was supposed to be his equal. "So tell me, then. What is to be my most glorious punishment?" He seethed.

"Your punishment shall not be glorious, but humiliating. Perhaps it shall strip you of your destructive pride."

Loki swallowed hard. Humiliating. That was his whole life summed up in a word. Humiliated by Lords and Ladies of the court when Thor's back was turned. Humiliated by his own not-brother in front of thousands of people. Humiliated by the Warriors Three and Lady Sif as they taunted him in front of the kingdom about how he was so skinny. Humiliated by the one he had called father, finding out that he had been the son of an enemy, that all his efforts to please had been for naught. Humiliated by the Chitauri as they-

"You shall be marched through the city in chains, stripped of your magic for the event. The people have been informed of your deeds, but not of the details of your actions."

So this was it. Complete and utter humiliation in front of millions.

"You shall be given to my Captain of the Guard for the space of a year as he prepares you for this event."

And he was to be tortured as well. Loki almost laughed. Nothing could be compared to His methods.

"And you shall be magically bound to this palace which you had once called home. Attempting to leave will paralyze you and your magic, which will graciously be allowed to you unless you misuse it. These chains will not allow you to harm yourself or end your own life."

Loki felt all the breath in his lungs flea at once. He was to remain here. In Asgard. Chained to the place he hated the most. Forced to live with the people he hated the most. He would rather be abandoned in a deserted forest with no provisions of any kind for an eternity. "How long shall I be chained?"

"Unless you learn to let love into your frozen heart, you shall remain chained Forever."

Loki hardly remembered what had happened next. He remembered as he shouted and cursed and kicked and fought to throttle the old king. His vision was blurry, but he remembered seeing his own blood as he was wrestled to the floor by the guards. He remembered his vision clearing for a split second as his eyes met those of Odin's. Satisfaction. Odin was satisfied with this punishment. Then, the old king had stretched out his hand, seidr glowing, Loki's strength suddenly draining as his magic left him. A numb feeling settled over him, he stopped fighting, a sharp tingling sense drifting through his chest, his arms, his legs, his heart as his magic was sapped away.

He remembered as he was dragged out, the guards being none too careful with the fallen prince. He remembered his thoughts. How much he truly despised Odin. How he wanted to kill the king for all he had done. But then darkness had gathered at the corners of his eyes as he felt his head being yanked up, parallel to someone else's.

"Hello, Jotun." The Captain of the Guard growled into Loki's face. "My name is Brandt. I should hope you remember that name for the rest of your pathetic life. You killed my brother. And I am the one that shall make you pay."

And then, something had hit Loki over the head and everything had gone black.


	5. Chapter 5: The Lost Child

Loki stroked Sorrow's swollen stomach as she slept. He couldn't help but marvel at it. Brandt's scar was stretched across the pregnant roundness, reminding Loki again that his Sorrow was still alive.

But he couldn't help but feel worry, nervousness. She had been on bed arrest for the past four weeks, not well enough to sit up. The healers were worried about the baby, about Sorrow. They said something might be wrong, but every time they tried to check, the image came out blurry, which was strange. Loki had talked to his mother, and she said that perhaps it was Loki's Jotun heritage.

Loki didn't know. And that's what killed him. What if Sorrow died? What if it was his Frost Giant side that was making her sick? What if they lost another child? This will have been their third. The past two having been born dead.

Sorrow's blue eyes opened slowly, and she stroked the side of his face. Loki smiled, pushing away the worry that she had clearly just seen. "We'll be fine." She whispered.

Loki sighed, nodding. "I know..."

Sorrow fell back asleep, neither of them knowing about the tragedy that would take place in just a few hours.

* * *

Loki had been kicked out of the healing room as soon as Sorrow went through the doors. She had gone into labor, and something was VERY wrong. He could feel it, sense death nearby. He paced back and forth, his mother flying by him and into the healing chambers to help with the birth.

Loki sank onto the nearest chair, feeling helpless. He sat that way for hours more, dawn til dusk. He was about to go into the room whether the healers liked it or not when Frigga came out. Loki's sudden spike of hope at seeing his mother died immediately. Frigga's face was drawn out, worn, heavy circles under her eyes. She strode up to Loki, throwing her arms around his neck, whispering that she was sorry. Loki pulled away, taking slow steps into the healing room.

He could feel death in the air, raw and overpowering. He sank onto a chair by the bed, which had been cleaned up. Sorrow lay on the bed, clutching a tiny bundle, sweat sheening on her forehead. She didn't look at him. Instead, tears rolled down her cheeks as she started sobbing, the tiny thing in her arms cold and unmoving. Quiet.

Loki leaned forward, pressing his forehead to Sorrow's. He felt her exhausted form shake as sobs wracked her body. Sorrow choked out cries, which kept coming, not able to stop herself. She held the bundle gently, as if the baby still had life.

Loki saw a nurse standing at the side of the bed, ready to take the baby away. Loki could tell the nurse was trying hard to keep a neutral face, but the raw pain in Sorrow's eyes finally had the nurse tearing up. Sorrow clutched the child to her chest, requiring the nurse to pry it out of her arms. Loki gently took Sorrow's hands, which were reaching for the dead infant.

"Sorrow." Loki whispered. He whispered her name over and over again, feeling her sobs start to reside to whimpers. He choked back the lump in his throat, taking deep breaths. Though one of his breaths hitched, he forced himself to remain strong, trying to put Sorrow back together again. "Sorrow." He whispered again. What could he say? He knew the pain of losing a child, thrice now, but he had not been the one to carry it, to give birth to it. Sorrow was hysterical, her eyes screwed shut as she heaved out sob after sob, eventually crying out in frustration, screaming her pain into the air.

Loki stroked her hair, kissing her forehead. He held her tight, his arms around her as she eventually collapsed back onto the bed, falling asleep. Loki felt her shuddering breaths calm, though she stilled cried in her sleep.

After a while, a different nurse came in, telling Loki that she needed to finish cleaning Sorrow up and make sure she was healthy, to come back tomorrow. Loki nodded, reluctantly letting Sorrow go and standing from the bed. He was ushered out, where he saw Frigga, who embraced him for a long time, assuring him that he and Sorrow would be okay. Thor was there too, with Jane and their two children.

Loki felt a tightening in his chest, seeing Thor with two healthy children. And Thor saw the way Loki looked at his and Jane's children. Pain, sadness, longing. Loss. Thor should have guessed it was unwise to bring children into such a situation. He had heard Sorrow's cries of distress, her scream of frustration. And now, Loki, who had dark circles under his eyes, who was pale and hurting.

Loki pushed past Thor with a little nod, exiting the Healing Halls. Many servants and maids passed him, making a clear path for the sullen prince. By the way Loki carried himself, they knew the second prince had lost yet another child. And not even the hardest of gossipers had heart to whisper fowl words against Loki or his family that evening.

Loki came to a stop in a completely empty hall, staring at the family portraits that lined the golden walls. He walked through them, seeing the different Kings and Queens, Princes and Princesses that were timelessly engraved into statues or painted onto paper. And at the very end, the most recent pictures, was that of Thor and Jane, with their two children. The one before that was of Odin and Frigga, with he and Thor.

Loki fell to his knees, his hands clutched into fists as he cried out in anguish, finally letting himself hurt. Letting himself feel the pain of loss once more. Letting himself crack for just a little while before he went back to Sorrow.

* * *

Sif was watching from the shadows, having been told by Frigga to follow him and make sure the second prince was alright. She watched as he cried, usually so guarded. She couldn't remember the last time Loki had cried, pouring out his soul into his tears. She had only seen it once, when Loki was a teenager, when his lover had completely thrown him away and pursued Thor. She had been walking down Loki's corridor, hearing muffled cries, seeing him through the crack of a door before it was slammed shut.

But now, she saw Loki. Not the fake Loki that put on a sassy smile, a sarcastic façade. The feeling Loki, who hurts and aches and loves and laughs genuinely. His eyes were full of raw pain.

Up until a few months ago, Sif had thought Loki was just using Sorrow to gain favor in the sight of the Allfather. But seeing him here, now, pure emotions coming off him in waves at the loss of another child, she knew she had been wrong. If he had just been using the woman, he would have found a different one by now, one that could bear him children, give him an heir. He wouldn't be here, having only left Sorrow's side because the healers had kicked him out.

Sif slowly stepped out from the shadows, taking a deep breath before standing next to Loki, putting a hand on his shoulder. She had expected him to whip around and face her, screaming at her to leave him alone as he had done in the past. But he didn't. He slowly looked up at her, his eyes a crimson red, his skin a cerulean blue, a chill rising in the air.

"It's my fault." He whispered. "It is because I am a monster. And she suffers for it."

Sif wasn't good at this sort of thing, wasn't used to seeing Loki in his Jotun form. Sif had the strangest feeling, one that was akin to sympathy. "No. It is surely something else."

Loki shook his head, slowly getting to his feet. Sif was surprised by how much taller he seemed as a Jotun, how much more intimidating. "What else could it be? Every child has died so far. And each time, I can see her withering away, part of her heart dying with them." Loki was silent for a moment before he spoke again, clearing his throat, his Asgardian form melting back to life. "I apologize. I did not mean for others to see my tantrum."

He began walking away. Sif caught his arm, ready to give him a berating few words to man up and stop trying to shove everyone away, when she hugged him instead. No, they hadn't always been the best of friends, but they had cared for each other at some point. "I'm sorry." She said.

Loki patted Sif's back. "Thank you, Sif."

And then, she was gone, hurrying away.

* * *

Loki wandered back to the Healing Halls, sat on the chair he had been sitting on all day, and fell asleep.


	6. Chapter 6: Mother and Daughter

Elysa tossed and turned, eventually bolting up in bed, sweat beading on her brow. Erick was up seconds after that, soothing her with calming words, asking her if she was alright, because she hadn't had nightmares in years now. Elysa took several deep breaths.

It had been… him. It had been Sorrow's father. His blue eyes, dark and angry. Elysa slowly pulled out of Erick's embrace, telling him that she was getting a drink. Erick nodded, his warm grey eyes filled with concern.

Elysa made her way through the halls, only thinking of Him. And for some reason, she ended up outside of Sorrow's hall, as she would when Sorrow was little, when she would try to approach the small girl. Elysa shook her head, remembering that Sorrow was no longer that little girl, that she was a grown woman who probably enjoyed her privacy. And Elysa could go to Yvette's room, the hyperactive girl the deepest sleeper in all the nine realms.

Sorrow was living at home again, though her father did not approve of it. Elysa found her daughter a mystery more than anything. She was quiet, sometimes open, but most of the time a closed book. Her blue, blue eyes were filled with experience and age… and she was only twenty-five. Elysa sighed, leaning against the wall, memories of every cutting thing she had ever done to Sorrow flitted into her mind. Sharply rejecting the little five year old, who was holding out a bundle of flowers picked from some meadow. Crawling into Elysa's bed and weeping, clutching her leg as Elysa yelled at her to leave.

Elysa's thoughts were interrupted as she heard the faintest cry coming from Sorrow's room. Moved by concern and curiosity, Elysa knocked quietly a few times before opening the door and slipping in. She walked through the parlor and into the bedchambers.

The figure on the bed twisted and turned violently, tears running down her face, her body tense, her hands clutching the sheets so hard her knuckles were white.

What could cause such a violent dream?

Elysa rushed forward, shaking Sorrow's shoulder and calling her name. Sorrow's blue eyes opened in a snap, focusing on Elysa immediately. Sorrow scooted a little ways away, her body quivering. She wrapped her arms around her knees, her hair falling into her face. It was silent for a long moment, Elysa watching Sorrow in concern, Sorrow calming her thundering heart, spinning head.

"What do you need, mother?" Sorrow asked quietly.

Elysa took a moment to answer, getting over the shock of Sorrow's completely normal voice. "Are you well?"

Sorrow still didn't look at Elysa, but Elysa could see the tears falling onto her hands. "Just a dream… it was just… a dream." Sorrow whispered.

Elysa placed a hand on Sorrow's shoulder. She was always surprised by the amount of muscle on her bony shoulder. "Would you like to tell me?"

Sorrow shook her head vigorously. "Some things I have seen and experienced, they should not be put into the minds of others."

Elysa's heart skipped a beat. "Some things should, Sorrow. Sometimes, you cannot hold everything to yourself. Your mind suffers from such things."

Sorrow finally looked up at Elysa. Her eyes were bloodshot, her deep blue eyes glinting in the dark. Pain. Horror. Sadness. Sorrow sighed, running a hand through her messy brown hair. She met Elysa's eyes after a moment of smoothing away wrinkles in her night gown. "Alright."

Elysa sat in a more comfortable position on the bed, readying her mind for what she was to hear, though she should have readied her heart more than anything. Sorrow rubbed her temple, her tongue refusing to say the words just yet. "I'm sorry." Sorrow whispered, standing up and walking out into the parlor. Elysa followed shortly after and saw Sorrow sipping at a glass of water. She sat down next to the girl… the woman.

Sorrow didn't look at Elysa this time. She had lit a candle, which now burned dimly on the short table, and she stared at the dancing flame. The memories stirred from within her, the images of blood and fists filling her mind. The cold water trickled down her hot throat, making it easier to speak. She took a deep breath. "It was years ago. I was… I had just been a slave for a few years at this point. I had been sold at least twice, hadn't yet got my first true whipping." Sorrow focused on breathing, her heart fluttering at the thought of letting her thoughts spill.

"It was winter time. I had finally been sold to the palace, where I started getting good at what I did. I would go from guest room to guest room, trying to get as many rooms done as possible." Her hands were shaking. "I saw many things that went on… heard many tales and rumors. Encountered many types of people. Most of the time they would ignore me, knowing that I was just a slave who wouldn't say a word. And I never did."

"This one particular winter evening, it was snowing so hard, the soldiers that were meant to be shipped out were stayed and given guest rooms. I was cleaning one room, when a soldier burst in, fully drunk, carrying something over his shoulder…" Sorrow choked on her words, clutching her arms to her chest, trying desperately to contain the waver in her voice as tears streamed down her face. "It was a little girl, six years old, perhaps. She was crying and squirming and begging. The soldier stumbled right past me, barely even noticing me."

"Two more of his friends came in and they shut the door. They brought drink and food, getting drunk by the minute. They set the girl in the midst of them and commanded her to dance. She did, but she was so scared she could barely keep herself from tripping. I had to keep cleaning or I would have been noticed." Sorrow took breath after breath, tears pouring down her face. She leaned her head back against the chair's back, closing her eyes. "They started throwing things at her, a mug hitting her square in the forehead, so hard she fell down and couldn't get back up."

"They got mad at her for this, the man who had carried her in went down upon her, shaking her and hitting her. This is where I saw my first cutting. They pulled out a sword, held her down, and slowly cut open her arms. They poured salt over the wounds as she screamed, her terrified little face broken and bruised. And then, with blood all over their hands, they left her on the floor. She dragged herself to the door, and that's when I slinked away to help her. I tried to save her, but she d-died in my a-arms. I… I still… I see blood… on my hands… and I… I didn't… save her…."

Sorrow felt a sob roll through her chest. She cupped a hand over her mouth, the gory images playing through her mind. Her eyes were shut so tightly it was giving her a headache.

Elysa went pale, her body locked in place. She slowly forced her mouth to work. "Did that ever happen to you?"

Sorrow had calmed down. She opened her miserable eyes, looking at Elysa.

Elysa fought the urge to look at Sorrow's arms, though they were covered. Elysa felt her heart pounding hard as Sorrow rolled up her sleeves


	7. Chapter 7: The Little Slave

Sorrow breathed in the morning air. She loved the feel of fresh air on her face. It was times like these she couldn't believe she was free. All was quiet in the early morning. It was so early, however, that hardly anyone in the palace was awake. Except the slaves. They were awake at this ungodly hour every morning. And so was she. It was a part of her past she couldn't give up. She had never once slept past the rising sun, always waking before the sky turned the light blue hues of day, even when she was late.

She knew she wasn't supposed to converse with the slaves now that she was of higher status, but she did. She stood by one of the cleaning closets every morning, slipping pieces of bread to the hard workers. Every one of them knew her now. There was no line, for they knew if they were found out accepting bread from a Lady, a princess no less, they would be whipped. So they took it secretly, a small nod or smile on their face.

Sorrow enjoyed this part of her day almost as much as seeing Loki when he came back from his duties as prince.

A small girl walked past, her pale face too worn for her young face. This sight wasn't foreign to Sorrow. She remembered her own face when she had been a slave. The girl couldn't have been older than Yvette, and this almost brought tears to Sorrow's eyes. She had been twelve. She was lucky enough to have been twelve. But this girl… who knew how many times she had been whipped or starved already at the age of, what, eight?

The girl hesitantly walked up to Sorrow, unsure and suspicious when Sorrow motioned her over. Sorrow held the piece of bread out to the little girl. Her huge brown eyes began to water as she looked from Sorrow to the food. She looked around the hall, looked behind her, even looked down at the floor to see if it was for some sort of animal. Her eyes flitted back up to Sorrow's.

"Is this…" The tiny voice trailed off as she lost her confidence.

Sorrow smiled and knelt down to the little girl's level. Sorrow took her hand and the little girl flinched. She placed the bread gently in the girl's hands. "What is your name?"

The girl hesitated. "Lily…" She whispered.

"That is a very pretty name, Lily." Sorrow said reassuringly.

Lily looked at the piece of bread in her tiny hands which were already calloused and rough from work. Then she looked at Sorrow's hands, which still bore the scars of slavery. "Is this… for me?" She asked sheepishly, not meeting Sorrow's gaze.

"Of course it is."

Lily put the bread to her nose and took a deep breath, her face lighting up with pleasure. The sadness disappeared from her eyes and she smiled the prettiest smile Sorrow had ever seen. "Thank you." Lily whispered in a reverent awe.

Before Sorrow could say another word, Lily ran down the hall as a Head Maid came walking by. Sorrow stared at the Head Maid as she passed, and the Head Maid stared at her. Neither spoke, for now, Sorrow was the one who could make the demands, though she never would. Sorrow was only glad that she could help the slaves who, to her, were the strongest set of people she knew.


	8. Chapter 8: Sleeping Beauty

Sorrow didn't know what to think anymore. She hardly ever saw Loki, and he seemed to be avoiding her lately. She wasn't quite sure what that meant, especially since there were women chasing after the last available Prince of Asgard like dogs after meat.

She couldn't stop thinking about him. Not once since she had first met him had she been able to stop thinking about the God of Mischief. She realized that he had been her life for ten years now. They had kissed twice, but both had been during harsh circumstances. Once as a slave, once after she had come back to life after having bled to death.

Now, Loki had a good relationship with his family, some friends around the palace once more, and was gone for weeks at a time on hunting trips and peace negotiations. He talked to Thor and Sif regularly, the Goddess of War actually laughing at a few of his jests.

But when Sorrow even thought about approaching him, he would see her and leave the room. The last time she had talked to him had been a month ago. It was a short, choppy conversation that left the air feeling heavy and awkward. He had muttered something about needing to go somewhere and then quickly left.

Now, as she sat on the bed in a palace guest chamber, just minutes away from Loki's own chambers, she couldn't help but sigh. The skies outside were dark and angry, rain threatening to pour any moment, thunder growling at the lightning, wind whipping trees back and forth, driving away any and all warmth from the air. The clouds hid away the beauty of the sun, turning the world a bleak, sad grey. She felt as though she could relate to those sad clouds, being pushed where the wind wishes, pushed until they shed their fat tears.

There was a knock at her door.

She got up quickly, her heart skipping a beat, excitement in her chest as she thought how it might be Loki. But when she opened the door, she tried to banish the disappointment that wrenched at her stomach.

The serving maid told Sorrow the Queen had invited her to tea with Loki, Thor, and Jane, and that she needed to be ready within the hour. Sorrow accepted the invitation, her mind already filling with thoughts of Loki. He wouldn't be able to leave, not without his mother forcing him to sit through at least an hour of idle chat and more tea.

Sorrow called Janine, the maid bouncing excitedly on her heels as Sorrow told her about the invitation. Janine had become her best friend… well, next to Loki. But he wasn't talking to her. She had told Janine about her troubles with Loki months ago, the maid comforting her or distracting her to help ease her thoughts.

Janine helped fit Sorrow into a deep blue, silk dress that flowed over her body, complimenting her form. It was simple, with a silver band around her waist and silver slippers that matched. Janine did her hair up into a loose, stylish bun, and dusted her face with the tiniest bit of makeup. She looked nice enough to have tea with the Queen of Asgard and most of her family, but simple enough to not overdo it.

She wrung her hands in anticipation, not realizing how much she had missed Loki, missed his quick remarks and sharp sense of humor. She missed being able to talk with him, laugh with him, play chess, dance, stroll. Spend time with him.

The sickening thought that her slave years had been a lie shot through her head. She glanced, unsure, at Janine, not wanting to step into the Queen's chambers just yet. She felt lightheaded at the thought that Loki had merely used her to gain favor in the eyes of both his family and the people of Asgard, who were thrilled about her and Loki as she had a story of endurance and strength and courage. Things she really hated to hear, things she thought made her seem like a grand heroic woman, when she was just a nervous ex-slave who couldn't seem to talk to her "other half" any longer than a few awkward moments.

She finally entered the chambers, being greeted warmly by Frigga, Jane, and Thor. But Loki avoided her gaze, looking somewhat bored. There were two seats left, one by Loki and one at the head of the table. It was obvious she was supposed to sit by Loki, so she hesitantly did so. Loki's posture stiffened, as if in discomfort. Sorrow felt the lump in her throat at his cold greeting, a ridged hello, and then looking through her as if she was nothing more than a slat of wood. He began talking to Thor, and Sorrow talked to Jane.

Loki tried to focus on his conversation with Thor, but from the moment Sorrow walked in the room, he couldn't help but drink in her natural beauty. The way she shone with elegance, the light in her eyes that showed kindness and patience and trust.

And then, he remembered how pure, how amazing, she was. And how undeserving he was. She was… she was the most beautiful, kind-hearted, loving person he had known his entire life, save for Frigga. She deserved better than him, deserved a man noble and brave and equally loving as she. He could not bear to think of her in the arms of another man, but he couldn't let himself see her in his own.

He was the hurt on her face when he shunned her, walking by without even a glance, without even acknowledging her presence. It was so hard to do so, to keep his eyes cold, his spine ridged, his conversation lacking interest around her. Hard to stop the pounding of his heart whenever she neared him.

Her fragrance was warm and welcoming, her blue, blue eyes glittering like sapphires, like stars in the night sky. She was perfectly imperfect.

After the tea was gone, the conversation picked up. Sorrow smiled and laughed at Thor's loud stories of recent escapades into the Alfheim forests, and Loki tipping in to correct Thor's brash exaggerations.

"I took Jane to Alfheim just a month or so ago. Not even the elven women could compare to her beauty on the night of the departing feast." Thor smiled at Jane, putting his hand on her knee as she blushed, telling him that he was the most handsome man of all the elves.

Thor looked at Sorrow, then to Loki. "Why did you not bring the Lady Sorrow? I am certain she would have loved to see the beauty of Alfheim. In fact, I am most certain Alfheim would have loved to see the beauty of Sorrow!"

Loki pursed his lips. "It did not occur to me at the time… to bring a Lady with me."

Sorrow twisted her hands, rubbing her sweaty palms.

Thor laughed. "Brother, if there is anything I have learned growing up with you, is that everything occurs to you at all times. That is why you are the… how does that saying go, Jane? The one with the, uh, mind and muscles?"

Jane rolled her eyes. "Loki is the brains, Thor is the brawns."

Thor's eyes lit up as if he had just unlocked the answer to the universe. "That is the one!"

Loki sighed, clicking his tongue. "Perhaps the Lady Sorrow has not been on my mind. Did you think that maybe I would not want to bring her? I do not need an arm trophy."

Sorrow felt as if she had been slapped thrice over, her cheeks turning the lightest tint of a rose. The air was thick for a moment, quiet at the moment those words left Loki's mouth. Sorrow felt that same dull ache as those lonely months after Brandt. She kept her expression the same as before, not willing to let others see her pain, locking her emotions up, all but what she needed at the moment. Happiness, indifference, humor.

She felt eyes shifting from Loki to her, Frigga scowling at Loki in the corner of Sorrow's eye. Thor began a different conversation, telling a story of how he slayed a hundred monsters in battle. Sorrow tuned out the Thunderer's voice after the first minute, the need to cry building. But she had mastered the art of locking herself up. So she waited until Thor and Jane excused themselves.

Sorrow stood before Loki himself could leave, the Queen embracing her warmly, telling her how regal she looked, before asking if they could have tea tomorrow. Sorrow cleared the lump in her throat. "I apologize, but I must decline the invitation. I am feeling ill suddenly… I would not want to get you sick."

Frigga's brows drew together. "Do you need to see the healers?"

Sorrow shook her head slightly. "No… I merely feel a little warm."

Frigga nodded. "I understand. Get some rest. But if it gets worse, call for me."

Sorrow smiled, somewhat bitterly, before she walked out of the room, Loki's eyes on the back of her head. She walked so fast she was nearly running, holding back the tears that were already filling her eyes. Her heart wrenched painfully as she realized the rumors had been true, that Loki had only used her to gain favor in the eyes of Asgard.

The hallway was dark, a torch lit every so often. The tears in her eyes finally started to fall as she realized she was alone. She stopped walking so fast, walking slow enough to think.

"Sorrow."

Sorrow whipped around at the sound of Loki's voice, her heart racing, hope building in her thoughts. "Loki."

Loki frowned in the torchlight, shaking his head. "You need to stop, Sorrow."

Sorrow's blood rushed to her head. "What do you mean by that?" She almost whispered.

"Stop coming back to the palace. Leave within the week. You have no need to be here, and your presence annoys me."

Sorrow choked on the air in her lungs. "W-what?" She sputtered, her eyes wide like a dumbfounded child.

Loki glared hard at her. "You do not belong here. Go back home. You are not a slave, and you hold no political standing. You have no business here."

Sorrow blinked rapidly, feeling a massive headache start to creep into her mind. She met his cold, indifferent gaze, the crushing feeling of two hands wrenching her heart apart. She felt that hollow place in her mind, wanting to retreat into it, where she could feel no pain. "Loki… what happened to… you and I?"

Loki chuckled softly, Sorrow flinching at the mockery. "Do not be naïve. That was one thing I took you for, but I can stand it no more, for it no longer amuses me. There never was a 'you and I'. There was only I. Please, refrain from fooling yourself any longer. I do not love you. Go find someone who will."

And in that moment, Sorrow's gaze became that of broken glass. The feeling of her heart being torn in two was so intense that she suddenly went numb. And without another word, she turned and left, not bothering to see the pained look on Loki's face, his façade falling.

She hadn't been lying to the Queen. She was sweating, panting by the time she got back to her chambers. Her cheeks were flushed, her head pounding with a searing headache that seemed to rock her skull back and forth until she felt it would crack open. Her hands shook, and she felt so tired. She knew she was making herself sick, but what was the point? It seemed Loki had burnt her after all. And she was more than willing to let it consume her.

Her thoughts were a bit sluggish, and she could only think of Loki. Loki as she dressed. Loki as she washed the makeup from her face. Loki as she undid her hair, one pin at a time. Loki as she scrawled a tiny note to Loki, leaving it on her dresser. Loki as she slid under her covers, feeling freezing by the time she reached the bed. Loki as she sank into the sheets, willing them to warm her.

Loki as she fell asleep.

* * *

Janine had found Sorrow, almost dead under her covers. She had been running a fever of 109, she was sure. Janine had alerted the Healers immediately, but they couldn't find out what had caused the sickness. Not natural, not poison, not allergies. Nothing. But Sorrow was sick. Very sick. She laid there limp on the bed, a cold rag on her forehead, dead to the world.

Janine had seen Sorrow like this before. And it was always because of the Prince. The Prince would shatter Sorrow's heart, time and time again, and Sorrow would blame herself, eventually hitting rock bottom and collapsing, her heart broken into a million glass pieces. Janine hated the youngest Prince sometimes, seeing what he did to Sorrow.

Janine took the now warm rag off of Sorrow's forehead, the Healers having instructed her to keep the rag cold, try and break the fever. But Sorrow was too hot, the rag warming within seconds of being put on her forehead.

Janine brushed the sweaty strands of hair out of Sorrow's face, tears falling down her cheeks as she thought about how sick Sorrow made herself. And that's how Janine knew that Sorrow truly did love Prince Loki. So when Janine found the note Sorrow had written for the Prince, she fought the urge to pry, and walked to the Prince's chambers, knocking on the door.

The Prince opened it a minute later. Janine averted her eyes as was respectful, holding out the note. The Prince eyed it nonchalantly before asking who it was from.

"The Lady Sorrow, my Lord." Janine said.

Loki rolled his eyes, making Janine shiver in anger. "I do not want it. Take it back to her. Tell her that whatever she has written she can tell a scribe later."

Janine felt like shoving the note down the Prince's throat. "I am afraid, my Lord, that I will not be able to do that."

"And why not, maid?" Loki snapped.

Janine dared to meet his gaze. "Because my Lady Sorrow is on her death bed and will not be able to tell a scribe later."

Loki's eyes widened, his breath freezing. "What?" He breathed.

Janine glared at him. "I must tend to the Lady Sorrow. Good evening, my Lord." Janine dropped the letter at the Prince's feet, curtsied, and left, not giving the prince a chance to blink before she was gone.

* * *

Loki snatched the envelope off the ground as soon as the maid was out of sight. He scrambled to open it, finding it was just a small piece of paper folded in half. His hands were shaking, hoping this wasn't some sort of sick form of revenge Sorrow was playing.

He knew he had hurt her. He had done so on purpose. She deserved a far better man than he. He forgot how much he could hurt those closest to him, as his strongest weapon was words. He remembered seeing her tear stained eyes in the torch light, those beautiful blue eyes. The broken look on her face, the numbness that overtook her.

The handwriting was small and neat, a mix between cursive and print. But there were smeared words. Words that had been smeared with tears.

 _Loki,_

 _I believe this is my final farewell. As you wish, I shall leave. You will never see me again as I know you find my sight unbearable. But because I am to never see you again… (The words were too smeared to read) Why? Was this truly all a game? I know you would scoff at this, but you will always be my dearest friend. Whether it was fake or not, you are the kindest, most loving man I could ever know._

 _Now, burn this letter. Rip it up, throw it out, perhaps you may even leave it unopened. To you, I may be but a slave, an illegitimate daughter with disgraceful blood that runs through her, an outcast of society with no purpose. But to me, you will always be my…_

 _Sorrow_

Loki panicked. What had he done?

He threw the envelope back into his chambers before dashing out the door, to Sorrow's chambers.

* * *

Frigga hurried to the room as quickly as she could, hearing of Sorrow's illness. She had not thought the woman so sick. She had been almost perfectly healthy the previous night, and now she was burning, dying.

She rushed into the room, seeing a maid weeping over Sorrow's body. Frigga pushed past the maid, checking her forehead, eyes widening at how hot she was. Frigga glanced at the maid, who was staring at the Queen with astonished eyes.

"We must take off her dress. She is much too hot."

The maid nodded, peeling back the covers and trying to gently turn the small woman onto her stomach. Frigga helped hold Sorrow to the side as Janine undid the laces to Sorrow's dress. Frigga set Sorrow on her back, the ex-slave not even responding in the slightest. Janine stripped off Sorrow's dress, Frigga's breath catching at the scars that littered her body.

Frigga settled the covers on Sorrow's chest, the woman not completely naked as she was still wearing undergarments, but was starting to shiver hard. Frigga placed a hand on Sorrow's forehead again, roughly aware of someone entering the room, panting from running hard.

Frigga muttered a spell for fevers, nothing. A spell for sickness, nothing. A spell which soothed the mind, nothing. A spell that drove away sickness, nothing.

Nothing worked.

In all the millennia Frigga had lived, she had mastered every healing art there was in all the nine realms. Yet she had also mastered those of death as well. Sorrow's life seemed to be fading, as though she was returning to Helheim, her soul slowly, reluctantly making the journey back to that dark abyss. Frigga remembered the deal Sorrow had made with Death, the deal to bring Death life.

Frigga's eyes snapped to the person who had entered the room. Loki. Her youngest son. Master of deception and trickery, weaver of lies. "What did you tell her?"

Loki glanced at the maid, who folded her arms, refusing to leave. He sighed. "I told her to leave… that she had no purpose here."

Frigga raised a defined eyebrow. "And?"

A shadow fell over Loki's face. "That I did not love her, to go find some else who would."

Frigga could feel the anger radiating from the maid. Frigga stood walked over to Loki, seeing the pain in his eyes. "You forget that I know you, my son. I had anticipated something like this. But you cannot punish her with your insecurities."

Shame fell on Loki's face.

"I am not for certain what is wrong with her, but I do have a suspicion it might have something to do with her deal with the Goddess Hel. I will talk to the Dark Queen, but you must stay by her side. I will return within a day's time." Frigga's dress swirled after her as she left the room, the door closing quickly.

Loki glanced at Janine, seeing the pure rage in her green eyes. She motioned at Sorrow, inviting him to stay by her side.

Loki sat by Sorrow, Janine sitting on the other side. The warm glow of a candle lit the room, but besides that, it was dark. The wavering light illuminated Sorrow's face just enough for him to see her long lashes, her flushed cheeks, her red lips, her soft brown hair.

It was silent for a long time, Loki gazing at her form, wishing he could take those words from her mind. He felt Janine's fiery gaze on him. The silence was shattered when she finally spoke.

"I've never seen her this sick before. I mean, she made herself pretty sick the last time you broke her heart, but she was still able to walk and talk and eat, even though she rarely did so."

Loki's icy eyes settled on the maid.

"For a few months after she was first brought home, I could barely get her to eat bread."

Loki realized her had never seen Sorrow's bare shoulders. He tried to think about only her shoulders, but Janine's voice pierced his mind like a sword.

"She forgives you as you hurt her, you know…"

"Believe me, I know." Loki snapped. "I have known her for far longer than you have, mind you."

Janine stood up. "I need to go get her some more cold water." And then, she stormed out of the room, sweeping the water bucket into her arms as she went.

It was just Loki and Sorrow. Loki groaned, shaking his head, pressing his palms into his forehead. "What have I done?" Loki whispered.

He buried his face in bed, smelling Sorrow's sweet fragrance. He took a deep breath, the scent soothing his confused mind. He stayed like that for a moment before sitting back up, looking at her. He remembered her beautiful laugh, her vibrant blue eyes, her sweet spirit. He leaned over and kissed her shoulder, the taste of her skin divine. He pressed his forehead to her shoulder, whispering her name over and over again, wishing she would respond.

* * *

Frigga was surprised, as she was just halfway to the Bifrost when the Goddess Hel herself appeared, not in her true form, but that of her Aesir form. "You need not travel all the way to my realm, Frigga Fjörgynsdóttir."

Frigga sighed heavily. "What has happened to Sorrow?"

"Sorrow Tarbensdottir?"

Frigga frowned. "Sorrow has no surname, no real father."

Hel chuckled. "Ah, but Tarben has been in my kingdom for nearly twenty years, Queen of Asgard. I know all."

"Then tell me what has become of Sorrow Tarbensdottir."

Hel sighed. "It's not that I don't like the ex-slave… but now that Loki Laufeyson has broken his ties with her, their future has been severed. I am reclaiming her soul."

Frigga's hands balled into fists. "You know as well as I that those were just words."

"Not to Sorrow. Her heart was broken, her will to live no longer remaining. Do not worry, Queen Frigga. I will send her to Valhalla."

Frigga shook her head. "If you take her soul, you will be breaking your half of the bargain. She is more than willing to be with my son."

Hel smirked. "You truly are the Trickster's mother. Always finding ways around." Hel folded her arms. "Fine then. If I release her soul, there must be a True Love's kiss. For True Love conquers all, even death. Then, I will consider our terms even once more."

Frigga felt relief flood her heart, but the Dark Queen was gone before she could thank her. Frigga hurried back to the palace, navigating the dark corridors by heart, entering Sorrow's chambers. Loki was at Sorrow's side, the maid gone. Frigga told Loki of what the Dark Queen had said.

Loki pinched the bridge of his nose. "True Love is shared between two. I am certain she loves me no longer after what I have said."

Frigga glared softly at Loki. "You have created this mess, and you shall fix it. And she could never stop loving you. I see the way your auras glow around each other. Anyone can see it. Your love is true, as is hers. Prove that you love her." Frigga left the room, locking the door behind her.

* * *

Loki stood, pacing at the foot of Sorrow's bed, watching as the pallor of her face returned to normal, how she stopped shivering. Now, it was as if she were simply sleeping. Loki couldn't help but remember the Midgardian tale of the Sleeping Beauty, who could only be woken by True Love's kiss. Except that princess hadn't had her heart shattered by her prince. And she was only a princess. Sorrow was a Queen.

Loki slowly approached the bed, thinking of how intimate a situation this might have been if Sorrow was awake. With a single candle, the room was dark, warm. Sorrow's beauty was accentuated, her lips red as the rose, her hair soft brown, her neck and bare shoulder perfectly smooth in the candlelight. Loki leaned over her, his heart thundering in his chest. He had only kissed her twice before, neither of them so… intense.

True Love. As he leaned over her, his fingers cradling her chin, he thought of how much he loved her. And then, he found he didn't have to think. His entire being was entwined with hers, their hearts beating as one, his whole soul yearning to be with her. She was valiant, divine of nature, worthy, intelligent, her heart good and pure, virtuous, beautiful. Loki brushed his lips against hers, whispering her name, before he fully pressed his lips into her lips, kissing her, feeling her soft lips against his.

* * *

Sorrow felt her mind clear, the weights of heartache dropping off her chest one brick at a time. She felt energy run through her body, numb no longer. And then, she felt something soft on her lips, something warm. She slowly opened her eyes, seeing the face of someone she knew, someone she had wanted to forget about.

Loki.

She couldn't keep the light gasp from escaping her, Loki breaking away, brushing her hair behind her ear. Her mind froze, thinking of the last time she had seen Loki, how he had glared at her, told her to leave and never return, that all had been a lie, that she was a fool.

Sorrow blinked, tears gathering in the corners of her eyes, falling down her face as she looked away, too ashamed to meet his gaze.

"I am sorry." Loki whispered.

Sorrow winced at his voice, yet it wasn't harsh or mocking. She looked back up at him. His eyes were earnest, sincere. He said it again, taking her hand, kissing it. Sorrow swallowed hard.

"I meant not a word of what I said, nor of what I did, shutting you out. I hurt you on purpose, for I thought you too good for the likes of me. I thought you deserved better, deserved a man who is loving and honorable without question, a man who is kind to you and treats you like the Queen that you are…"

Sorrow pressed a finger to his lips, silencing him. "I could never love another man, Loki." She whispered.

Loki's eyes fell away, ashamed. "I hurt you. I nearly killed you."

Sorrow felt more hot tears run down her face before she pushed herself up slightly, touching the side of his face. He leaned into the touch. "Stop that talk. I'll hear no more of it… I did it to myself." Sorrow said softly, her voice wavering.

The corner of Loki's mouth raised just a little. "I was worried your maid would gut me. Janine, is it?"

Sorrow laughed lightly. "Yes. Janine can be a bit… hot tempered. But she's one of my few true friends." There was a silence, and Sorrow noticed Loki's face redden a little bit, he glanced away, clearing his throat. Sorrow's brows drew together. "What?"

Loki cleared his throat, smiling at her, he said, "You are lacking a dress, love."

Sorrow blushed, finally noticing that Loki's hands were on her bare back, that the blanket was the only thing keeping him from seeing her in her undergarments. She let her arms slip from Loki's neck, though she noticed he was reluctant to let go of her. Sorrow gave him a sharp look and he chuckled, his hands sliding off her back, tracing her scars as they went. Sorrow shivered, her back tingling at the feeling of his fingers tracing her scars, his skin on hers, a feeling so sharp it sent tears to her eyes and a spike through her mind, causing her to flinch, her cheeks burning.

Loki stood quickly. "That was disrespectful of me. Forgive me."

"No… it actually felt… good." Sorrow's cheeks were tinted pink as she grabbed her robe from the side of the bed, holding the blanket to her chest. Loki turned away quickly as Sorrow slipped it on. He paced, hearing the rustle of fabric.

"Alright…" Loki said slowly, fighting the urge to catch a glimpse of her, shocked at his own lust.

Sorrow finished putting on her robe and she grabbed her hairbrush. "You can turn around now."

Loki turned around more quickly than Sorrow thought natural for him. His eyes met hers and he suddenly didn't know what to do. Sorrow motioned for him to sit next to her, patting the bed. Loki walked over to her, sitting down as Sorrow began brushing her hair, working the small tangles out. Loki couldn't help it. He put his hand over hers, Sorrow looking at him in question as he took the brush from her hands. He ran the brush through her hair, Sorrow getting what he was doing and turning away so that he could brush her hair better. Soon, they were both sitting cross-legged on the bed, Loki running the brush gently through her soft brown hair. He loved the feel of her hair, the way it had a slight shine to it, the smell of pomegranate and warm vanilla.

Neither of them spoke in the dimly lit room. Sorrow began to relax completely, her eyes closing as she felt Loki's skilled hands run the brush gently through her hair, becoming used to his touch


	9. Chapter 9: Library Tag

Sorrow's heavy breaths ripped through the library. She put a hand over her mouth to stifle the sounds. It was dark and she could barely see. She peeked around the corner of one of the gigantic shelves, searching for the man who was hunting her. She quickly bolted across the aisle to another bookshelf, clutching it to keep her steady.

She felt a knot of nervousness start to burn in her stomach, her heart slamming against her ribcage. A layer of sweat covered her brow, making her hair cling to her forehead. She sank to her knees, pressing herself to the bookshelf even more. She crawled across the floor, trying to blend in with the shadows. She rose to her feet at the end of the aisle. She again peeked around the corner, but this time He saw her.

She gasped as he grinned wickedly and charged towards her. She dodged through book shelves, trying to lose him again, but to no avail. She could almost feel his breath on her neck as he gained on her. She tripped over her own foot and collapsed to the floor, panting. She struggled to her feet, only to feel cold hands wrap around her wrist and yank her back. She crashed into him too hard and they both tumbled to the floor.

Laughing.

"I believe this is the part where I say 'Tag, you are It'." Loki grinned.

Sorrow groaned in irritation. "I was so close!"

Loki chuckled. "You are a fast runner. I am impressed."

Sorrow scowled at him in the dark. "You were letting me win." She breathed.

"Guilty as charged, love."

It was silent for a few seconds as Sorrow caught her breath. She hadn't realized it, but she was on top of him, straddling his waist. She blushed furiously and hurriedly fumbled to get off of Loki, only managing to fall back onto him. Loki laughed once more, realizing her embarrassment.

She finally tumbled off of him and he helped her stand up. She touched her flaming hot cheek and hid her face behind a curtain of hair. "I… sorry…" She mumbled, fidgeting with her soft brown hair.

Loki took her hand from her cheek and kissed it. "For what?" He pulled her towards him, making her face heat again. Loki's lips brushed against her own, making her heart beat wildly. His hand cupped the side of her neck, his thumb on her pulse. "Have I ever told you how beautiful you are when you blush?" He murmured against her lips. She didn't answer as their lips met, exciting and slow at the same time. Her hands travelled up to his chest, his settling at her waist.

She felt as though time was slower. As if Fate wanted to make sure she memorized each and every second. She felt a shiver run down her back as he kissed her jaw. The air seemed tense, then. She felt a pull she had never felt before, something inside her that was buzzing with electricity, making her want more. She hadn't noticed that her breaths had become shaky, that his soft lips had travelled down to her neck, that she was slowly being guided backwards until her back touched a shelf.

"Loki…" She whispered. "We marry tomorrow…"

Loki stopped, breathing in her sweet scent, his hands tracing the scars on her back. "Yes. We do."

"I'm nervous…" She whispered.

"Why?"

"I… I am… I was a slave… what will people think? I am not royalty type… How do I compare to Jane?"

"You are more a Queen than Jane could ever be. And, people don't have to think and rarely do."

Sorrow sighed. "Jane is beautiful, outgoing, easy to talk to… I'm obviously none of those things."

Loki gently lifted her chin so their eyes met. "Trust me as I assure you. You are in no way in her shadow. She is in yours. To me, you are perfect. It does not matter what Asgard thinks. Sorrow. I love you."

Sorrow kissed his neck, surprising him. "Loki... I love you, too. But you do realize you'll have married your former slave."

Loki scoffed. "No. I'll have married my best friend."

"Who is also your former slave."

Loki sighed, kissing her hand as he gazed into her eyes. "Does it matter?"

"People will talk." Sorrow said.

Loki rolled his eyes. "People will always talk. Look at Thor. He married a mortal. At least I will have married an Asgardian."

Sorrow's eyebrow rose in mocking. "And what if I wasn't Asgardian? What if I was Vanir? Or even a fire giant from Muspellheim?"

"Are you trying to tell me you are the runt offspring of a fire giant? Because that would be perfect, see, as I am the runt offspring of a frost giant." Loki grinned.

Sorrow laughed. "You're ridiculous."

"You're not denying it." Loki pointed out.

"Fine. You know my deepest, darkest secret. I am actually a fire giantess who is rather small." Sorrow said with a playful smile.

"Then you wouldn't mind showing me your true form?"

"I'm afraid I would catch this library on fire."

"I'm a frost giant. I would put it out before it singed the first page of a book."

"I guess I'd have no other choice than to burn you. Fire and ice don't mix well."

Loki faked shock. "You would harm me? After all we've been through together? I prefer you as a spirit. That way you could only scare me to death."

"How did this go from fire giants to me playing a spirit years ago?" Sorrow asked.

"I have no idea." Loki smirked. "But you almost made me forget that I won our game of tag, which means we get to play more chess."

"Alright. We'll play chess. But I hope we don't have to play in this dark library." Sorrow walked over to one of the tables, where she had left her shoes. She slipped her feet into the flats, turning to find Loki staring quizzically at her. "What?"

"You took your shoes off?"

Sorrow smiled amusedly as she bent down and picked up a book. "Yes. One of the many tricks I learned as a slave. If you want to keep quiet, take your shoes off and run on the pads of your feet. It's more tiring, but it works."

"No wonder I could barely hear you. I was counting on hearing your footsteps. The game would have gone a lot quicker." Loki said, walking over to her and offering her his arm.

"Then it would have been no fun. Besides, I never stood a chance in the first place. You have your tricks, I have mine. It was only fair." Sorrow said as she slipped her arm through his.

"Honestly, I did lose track of you for a few minutes. It kind of worried me. I thought you had somehow left without my noticing."

Sorrow laughed, the image of Loki lurking in a dark library for hours, waiting to pounce on his victim who had left.

"You obviously find it very amusing." Loki said. "When you think I have left you alone in the library, I assure you that I would never do so. When I think you have left me, you laugh. I think you have just hurt my pride."

"Everything hurts your pride." Sorrow leaned her head on his arm as they entered the hall, the guards to the royal library trying not to verbally agree with her last statement. "In fact, even saying that has hurt your pride. I can feel it in the air. Your hurting pride."

Loki pretended to sniffle. "No. It's not hurt. Now, it's broken. Thank you, Lady have damaged my pride beyond mental repair."

Sorrow rolled her deep blue eyes. "Just dig a little deeper. I'm sure you can find some more."

"You are on a role tonight, aren't you." Loki remarked.

"Where do you think I get it from? You are who you are with. Isn't there a saying like that somewhere out there?"

"Most likely. There is a saying for everything."


	10. Chapter 10: Cutting Pride

It was extremely late at night. Sorrow would have been asleep hours ago, and Loki was counting on this. He had to wait only a few hours before his magic was replenished enough to heal himself. But as he limped into the room, blood blossoming from his armor, he felt a pang of lightheadedness. He groaned, clutching his throbbing side.

His back faired no better, several cuts from a sword on his back, a deep cut on his side, his ankle not broken… perhaps sprained. He was sure he had several bruises on his chest. There was a small cut on his neck, one on his cheek, and one on his shoulder. But besides this, he was fine.

Fine.

He didn't need to go to the healers. They would only laugh at him, and he couldn't allow anyone to see him like this, like a wounded dog. Thor had gone straight to the healers, having always been praised for his battle wounds. But for Loki, battle wounds were a sign of weakness. Injuries in battle meant he hadn't been skilled enough, quick enough, to take out his enemy.

Weakness.

So, he peered around corners as he made his way through his chambers in the dark, trying hard not to trip and fall as his ankle pulsed with pain, his joints aching with exhaustion. It only grew worse as he realized Sorrow was probably asleep in their bedchambers, and he wouldn't be able to change quietly in his current state, much less expose his injuries. He knew he should trust her. Trust her with keep his pain a secret. She had shared her pain with him many times, showing complete and absolute trust. Devotion. Baring her soul to him.

Yet he was just words. When it came to physical injuries, he couldn't bear for her to see him. See him weak. He had to be strong for her. Not he weak for her.

His efforts to remain quiet were shattered as he heard her voice. "Loki?"

Loki slowly turned to see that she had been sitting in his seat by the fireplace, a book had dropped to the floor by her side, most likely having slipped out of her hand when she fell asleep. Loki sighed, straightening, trying to look fine in the darkness that shrouded the room. "Yes, love?"

Loki watched Sorrow's shadow near him in the darkness of their chambers. He fidgeted, trying not to back away. "I was worried. Thor arrived hours ago, saying that you were around the palace somewhere."

"You needn't stay up for me, Sorrow. You are not my mother." Loki didn't mean to snap, but he did. She stopped in her tracks, Loki breathing silently in relief, willing her to leave him be.

"No… I'm your wife. I have a right to stay up for you. I didn't know where you had gone. I thought you had collapsed somewhere or gone off on another adventure without… without…" Sorrow stuttered to a stop, peering at her husband in the darkness. She took a step towards him, Loki snapping at her.

"For Bor's sake, calm down, woman!" Loki hissed at her. "Go to bed, get some rest. I am home now, you needn't stay up any longer."

Sorrow was too close. Loki felt like a trapped animal. She couldn't see him. She couldn't. But another wave of dizziness caused him to sway, and he knew that he would not reach morning, not without magic to heal himself. He would bleed to death, and the last time he had bandaged himself up was years ago at the hands of Thanos.

Sorrow saw him swaying. It could be from exhaustion, but he was acting too strange. She walked over to the fireplace, lighting it, the warm glow spreading through the room. She turned to Loki, gasping as she saw the blood that covered his hands and face, blood that was still running. "Loki!" She ran to him, helping steady him as his balance finally gave out and he tipped to the side, ready to fall. She heard Loki sigh as she helped him half stumble, half limp over to his chair.

She pushed the book off his chair and helped him sit down. Loki collapsed onto the chair with a pain-filled groan. "Loki? What happened? How can I help?"

Loki silenced her. "I am well, Sorrow. As soon as my magic returns, I'll heal myself. Go to bed. You have seen enough."

Sorrow took Loki's hand, holding it to her chest as she gazed deeply into his eyes. "You need help, Loki. You need to see the healers. Now. You will not live long enough to get your magic back."

Loki wrenched his bloodied hand from her grasp, snarling. "I am not seeing the healers! I will be fine until I get my magic back! Besides, you know nothing of injuries!"

Loki regretted his words as he saw a little bit of hurt creep into her beautiful blue eyes. She flushed red, standing up, rubbing her arm uncomfortably. "I do know of injuries… I've treated many lacerations and broken bones... on others too."

Loki pinched the bridge of his nose, fighting off the massive headache that was pounding in his skull. He was too weak to stand, else he would have wrapped his arms around her and asked for forgiveness. Just the thought of holding her in his arms made him look up at her, seeing her begin to walk away, face still flushed with embarrassment. He remembered a time when she wouldn't have reacted at all, would have taken the words and added them to a list of insults thrown at her.

"Sorrow…"

Sorrow halted in her tracks, glancing back at him.

"I apologize. That was uncalled for." Loki murmured.

Sorrow simply nodded, a thin smile on her face as she slipped out of the room. Loki face-palmed. Curse his pride! He tried to stand, but tripped, falling over, not able to get back up, his head pounding. He felt the sticky, crimson liquid leaking out of his side and back. He pushed himself against a wall, leaning his head back. His eyes started to drift closed, when he felt a freezing cold splash over his head, soaking his face. He gasped, eyes darting up to Sorrow, who held an empty cup.

"Sorry. You need to stay awake."

Loki groaned as she helped him stand, Loki leaning heavily on her. She helped him into the bathroom, assisted him in sitting inside the empty bath tub. Loki looked up at her, watching as she set down a basket of bandages and ointments. He thought, drearily, that's where she had gone off to. To get medical… stuff…

Sorrow began unclasping his armor, slowly slipping it off his person and casting it aside. Loki's eyes began to drift closed, and she smacked his cheek lightly, Loki shaking his head to try and clear his mind and wake up. He felt like a little child being bathed by his mother. But Sorrow didn't fill the tub with water. She filled a bucket with warm water, slowly patting at his chest to find the wound. His skin was so caked in blood that she couldn't immediately find it.

But once she did, she let out a small breath of surprise. It was deep. Almost as deep as a bull whip's strike. It was just above his hip on his right side. Her blue eyes filled with worry, seeing all the blood that had escaped. She felt his forehead, gasping at how his skin burned.

She worked quickly, cleaning his skin and wounds, carefully, gently, digging the dirt out of the wound. Loki hissed and gasped, groaning as his head lolled from side to side. Sorrow's small, deft hands stitched up his wounds. As time went on, Loki's strength began to come back, his godlike body rejuvenating itself, extremely slow, but still making progress. Sorrow could tell he was going to be in bed for a few days. Even if his magic was able to come back on time, he would kill himself exhausting it again.

She helped him out of the tub, Loki leaning heavily on the wall. He felt clean, Sorrow having gently soaped his body, working all the blood off his skin and hair. She had him sit on a stool, telling him that she had to bandage him up, apply pressure, that it might hurt. Loki nodded, watching as she picked up the bandages, wrapping them around his torso, skillfully securing them into place, exceptionally tight.

She worked as fast as a battlefield medic. She was done within the hour, having completely cleaned him and fixed up any major injury she could find. Loki's temperature was already going down, strength filling his limbs once more. He watched Sorrow, her face mere inches from his as she dabbed at the cut on his shoulder, disinfecting it. She moved to the cut on his neck, Loki hissing at the spreading pain the antibiotics caused. Sorrow smacked his shoulder lightly, telling him it didn't hurt that bad.

Loki couldn't help but feel amused at this. Himself, to full of pride to go to the healers, possibly almost killing himself. Sorrow, patching him up so that he wouldn't have to wound his ego.

Finally, she moved up to the cut on his cheekbone, brushing his still slightly damp hair out of his face. This close, he could see every detail of her face. The shadows under her eyes, the few strands of hair in her face, the crease of her brow as she focused on cleaning his cut, the way her eyes moved around his face, looking for another injury. The experience in her gaze. The fact that she had done this many times.

Sorrow pulled away, putting the dirty swabs and empty bottles of disinfectants in the trash. She packed up all the extra supplies, tucking them away in a cabinet.

Loki stood up, feeling the dull buzz of pain throughout his body. Sorrow took his hand, helping him to the bedroom, having him lay down on his stomach. Loki groaned as he carefully stretched out on his side of the bed, feeling the bed dip as Sorrow sat down next to him. She held his foot in her lap at the end of the bed and began working some sort of angelic magic on it, as the pain in his ankle disappeared, replaced by the most heavenly sensation that could only come from one of her massages.

Loki fell asleep.

* * *

When he woke next, it was high noon. The bed was empty next to him, Sorrow having most likely woken hours ago. He had always thought he had been an early riser. But even though Sorrow was no longer a slave, she got up at five in the morning every day, cleaning, sewing, cooking, doing anything to be moving. Sometimes she even went and worked with the slaves until higher classes began waking. She would help them scrub floors, bring them decent food that she had cooked herself, make sure that most of their medical needs were taken care of, giving them medical supplies if she herself couldn't immediately help them.

Loki remembered what had happened last night, slowly pushing himself out of bed. He felt almost no pain as he went to the bathing chambers, his limp having disappeared. He saw that his bandages had been changed. He wanted desperately to take his bandages off now, but thought better of it as Sorrow would have his hide for doing so without her permission.

He went into the kitchen, where delicious smells were emanating from. Sorrow was chopping some vegetables on a cutting board, a pot of boiling soup next to her on the stove. She looked over at him as he entered, smiling.

"Good afternoon, husband mine. How do you feel?"

Loki sighed, sitting at the table. "Almost like new. Are you sure you don't know magic?"

Sorrow laughed, scraping the vegetables off the cutting board and into the soup, mixing it. "Not unless you count practice as magic."

Loki grinned. "Well enough. Am I allowed to take these bandages off?"

Sorrow gave him an exasperated look. "Already? I know you heal fast, but I had assumed you would heal slower without your magic."

"I am a god. That must count for something."

Sorrow turned off the stove. "Fine. We'll take them off while we're waiting for lunch to cool."

Loki stood up, feeling no pain at all now. In the bathroom, Sorrow cut away the bandages, checking his tender skin. She wiped away dried blood and rubbed some sort of lotion into his skin, nodding in approval. But before she could go back to the kitchen, Loki wrapped his arms around her from behind, kissing her neck. "Thank you, Sorrow."

Sorrow smiled, craning her neck and kissing his bare shoulder. "You're welcome. I would say any time, but I'd prefer if you did not do this again."

Loki let go, spinning her around, her dress twirling after her. "But it was so fun." Loki teased.

Sorrow sighed, knowing that he was teasing her, but couldn't help feel her heart wrench. She blinked away tears, burying her face in his chest.

"What is the matter?" Loki asked.

Sorrow looked up at him. "You almost died… you wouldn't have made it until morning, no matter what you say. You would have bled to death on our chamber floor, and I wouldn't have been able to do anything about it."

Loki twisted his hand into her hair, tipping her chin up to meet his gaze. "I… I apologize. I did not want to go to the healers. That would mean I was too weak to outmaneuver my enemy. My pride has caused you pain yet again… I promise it will not happen in the future."

Sorrow nodded. "I have just one more question… Did you not trust me?"

Loki glanced away, ashamed. "I have never let anyone see me in such a weak state. And I knew that if you saw, I would not be able to play it off as nothing with a quick remark. I trusted you too much… I knew that you would help me until you strung yourself out on a limb, and I did not want to wake you with such a mess as myself."

Sorrow wrapped her arms around his neck, kissing him briefly before walking away. "We better eat the soup before it gets cold."


	11. Chapter 11: A Crazy Family

Sorrow walked swiftly into the main room of her and Loki's chambers. Their chambers were huge, lavishly decorated, and extremely messy right now. Sorrow huffed in anger, hearing Loki walk after her. "Sorrow! I apologize!" He called after her.

Sorrow whipped around, seeing the smirk on Loki's face. "It is not funny!" She cried angrily.

Loki's grin widened, despite his best efforts to make it disappear. "I didn't know you would hate having green hair… I thought it looked ravishing." Loki tried to explain.

Sorrow noticed her hair was now brown once more. She glared daggers at him. "I am in no mood for your games right now!" Any other time, and Sorrow would be laughing along with Loki, but current events left her in a rather sour mood. She felt tears stinging her eyes. Loki pulled her into a tight embrace, even though she struggled against him.

"I am sorry… truly. I thought only to lighten the mood. I know you are worried for Yvette. She will be fine, though. You know as well as I do how strong-headed that woman is." Loki whispered into Sorrow's ear. Only the previous day, Yvette had been thrown from her horse and was now in the Healing Halls, unconscious still. "She will be well."

Sorrow sighed. "I know…" She bit her lip. "I am sorry for getting so angry." She said quietly.

"As long as you forgive me for making your hair a stunning shade of green, all is forgiven." Sorrow leaned up and placed a chaste kiss on Loki's lips. Loki smirked and pulled her closer, kissing her deeply. She felt her face heat up.

"Eww…" Both Loki and Sorrow turned to the sound of the voice. Loki smirked. "Do you have to do that in front of me?" Hela asked.

"I know of no better place." Loki said, grin widening.

"Of course…" Hela said sarcastically.

Loki let go of Sorrow and walked up to Hela, who glared at him. "Little angel… what is the matter? Did something happen today?"

Hela's icy blue eyes filled with tears. "The other kids in my class… they say I am a runt… because I am so small..." She sniffled softly.

Loki looked in concern at his daughter. He knelt in front of her. Even though she was only ten years old, she had inherited Loki's wit and intelligence. It almost made him forget she was still a small child at times. He brushed the tears that trickled down her face away. "Hela… nobody can make you feel inferior without your permission. And if they persist, you can always tell me who they are and I will make sure they don't live to-" Loki was cut off by Sorrow.

"Loki! They are children!" She scolded.

Loki sighed. "You are a princess, Hela. You are my princess. Just as your mother is my Queen and your brother is my prince. I love you… Do not shed unnecessary tears for the likes of cowards." Loki said, a caring hand resting on Hela's shoulder.

"Speaking of our little prince… where is he?" Sorrow asked.

Loki stood up. "I do not know… I thought he was last with you."

Sorrow pressed a hand to her forehead. "Great…" She muttered. She looked to be on the verge of tears.

"Why is mom so sad?" Hela asked.

"Your Aunt Yvette got hurt recently, and your mother is stressed. Please, go find you brother." He instructed.

Hela nodded in understanding before skipping away to look for her younger brother.

Loki turned back to Sorrow. He pulled her into his arms and held her as she calmed down. "All will be well. We shall visit her tomorrow if it would please you." Loki said softly. "Are you sure that is all you are concerned about?" Loki asked, looking down at Sorrow. She now had a mischievous look on her face. "What are you not telling me?"

A small smile played on her lips. "I could tell you… but I really shouldn't…" She teased.

"I will be forced to discipline you severely for withholding information from me." Loki said with mock seriousness.

Sorrow's smile got slightly bigger. "Well… if you insist… I could tell you tomorrow." She started walking away.

Loki caught her wrist gently and pulled her back to him. His lips almost touched her ear as he whispered, "You best tell me now before I am forced to punish you…"

Sorrow grinned, something she had picked up from Loki. "Fine. I have no choice but to tell." She waited to see if Loki was actually listening. He was. "I am with child." She stated simply. Loki's grin fell. He looked surprised. Sorrow frowned. "Is something wrong?"

Loki's ice blue eyes gazed lovingly into her own. He placed a kiss on her forehead and embraced her once again. "Nothing is wrong. Nothing at all." He whispered. Sorrow was confused by his behavior. "You have managed to melt the ice of my heart. You have loved me and taught me what it means to love another… and now you are bringing yet another blessing into my life. Thank you." He whispered reverently. "I love you, my Queen." He said this sincerely, pouring his whole heart into those words.

"I love you, my King." She whispered.

They held each other for a few minutes more before Sorrow pulled away from him, looking troubled. "What is the matter?" Loki asked.

"Listen…" She whispered.

Loki was silent for a moment. "I hear nothing." He said with a frown.

"Exactly…" Sorrow pointed out. "Since when have our children been quiet for longer than two seconds?"

Loki understood now. "I shall go check on them." Loki said, heading towards Fenrir's room.

"I'll straighten this place up." Sorrow concluded. Loki turned to her, about to argue, but she interrupted. "I know! I know! You don't like me cleaning… but I have help this time." Sorrow said, referring to their maid, Eirrah.

"I shall clean. You go check on the children."

Sorrow sighed, clearly tired. "Fine…" She found no use in arguing.

Loki looked at the messy room. Paints, shoes, clothes, various papers, some food, and some tipped over furniture littered the floor. It looked like a tornado had swept through the room. "Never letting Jane give Fenrir caffeine again…" Loki muttered under his breath. He used his magic, and soon, the room was sparkling clean again. He turned and walked towards the door Sorrow had gone in minutes before. He peeked in the room to see Sorrow chasing Fenrir around the room, trying to catch him. Hela was snickering, causing several illusions of her self to jump in Fenrir's way, making the small boy trip and tumble to the ground. He took no time in pushing himself back up and bolting off again.


	12. Chapter 12: I'll Wait for You

After the princes had been missing for twenty years, Asgard assumed them dead, as Heimdall couldn't see them and the princes hadn't come back from a war zone for such a long time. And there was no heir. Asgard went on several search missions, but they never found the princes.

The last time Sorrow had seen Loki was with a fleeting glance, as he kissed her hurriedly and rushed out the door to join Thor on some escapade.

And now, twenty years later, Sorrow lay still in bed, alone.

Every single day she had thought about Loki, thought about her husband, her deepest friend, her most trusted confidant. And compared to any other man in the entire universe, there was no comparison. Loki was the only one that held her heart, no matter how many men who tried to bed her, knocking on her and Loki's… her chamber door, trying to "comfort" her.

She pushed them all away, sometimes calling to the guards for help.

Many court women had advised her to get a lover, in the fact that it would be foolish to drop her title as Princess to marry lower. Sorrow wouldn't have it. Not when she had slept with Loki, shared his bed, ate with him, laughed with him, lived with him. Loved him. Still loves him.

So, late at night, she lay in their bed, the other side of the bed, Loki's side, remained empty. Sometimes, she would bury her face in his cold pillow, smelling him. Smelling sandalwood, the smell of Loki's soap. She would read his books, the ones with notes scribbled all over the page in his neat handwriting. She would sleep in their closet, with all of Loki's armor, just to be near something of his essence. And most nights, she slept with Loki's helmet pulled tight to her chest, the helmet that was dented and burnt as it had been found on the battlefield where Loki was supposed to have come home from.

And though many called her obsessive, only keeping her wedding vows to her deceased husband to keep the title of Princess, though they whispered hating words behind her back and called her a whore, many rumors going about that she had taken several lovers, she refused all company because she loved a dead man.

Yet, she didn't think so. She felt as though he was out there somewhere, coming home. That even if he was dead, he would live on in her heart.

* * *

Twenty years. Twenty years of running, dodging enemy attacks, slipping through the darkness of night, eating hunted game, having to teach Thor how to use a dagger as Mjolnir was back on Asgard.

Twenty years without Sorrow.

Loki and Thor stopped at a stream, only a few more days from their final destination. Only days away from Heimdall's sight. Loki stripped off his extremely worn out armor, washing himself in the river. He washed the blood from his hands and face, getting the dirt out of his cuts. Though he hated being on the run, he couldn't deny that he was the most fit he had ever been.

Thor placed a heavy hand on Loki's shoulder after they were done washing, their armor drying, only in their pants. Loki looked up at Thor from across his magic fire, which created no smoke but kept them warm and cooked their fish.

"We are almost there, brother." Thor murmured.

Loki nodded, running a hand through his black hair, which he had cut himself to keep a reasonable length. And though it wasn't as good as Sorrow's haircuts, it wasn't too bad.

Thor's hand dropped from Loki's shoulder as he stood, wandering over to the stream to catch more fish. Thor watched the scars on Loki's back, remembering when he had first seen them, years ago. They still made Thor shiver, seeing permanent memories of pain etched onto his brother's skin. Scars that weren't supposed to be there, as Asgardian and even Jotun skin healed too fast for scarring.

Thor stood up and followed Loki, standing next to the younger prince. Loki had grown. They both had grown, but Thor's memories of Loki were still those of an elder brother watching out for the younger, playing with the younger, spending every second of each day with the younger. But Thor had learned much about Loki over the past twenty years.

The nightmares that plagued Loki's sleep, his intelligence for survival, his craftsmanship with a dagger. Things Thor had only scratched the surface on knowing about. Thor had always known that Loki was far more intelligent than he, that Loki was the best candidate for the throne, though that hadn't happened. If it wasn't for Loki, they'd both be dead.

It was Loki who had outsmarted their enemy time and time again. It was Loki who healed both their wounds, who knew which plants were poisonous and which ones weren't. It was Loki who knew how to make shelters out of branches and leaves, navigate in the night when the stars weren't out, make antidotes for poisons.

And yet, it seemed as though Loki didn't want to go home.

"What is wrong, brother? Do you not want to return to Asgard?"

Loki glanced at him with icy blue eyes, sighing. "I do, Thor. I feel as though we can't get there soon enough."

"Then why are you so anxious?"

Loki shook his head, staring into the clear water, evidently not over here to fish, but to think. "Sorrow."

Thor raised an eyebrow, confused. "The Lady Sorrow? I thought you were dying to see her."

Loki glared at Thor. "You do not get it, Thor. It has been twenty years. We have mostly likely been claimed dead in Asgard. And though twenty years isn't that long compared to the rest of our lives, think about our wives. Jane will not be able to remarry, as she was a mortal and the wife of the late crown prince. But Sorrow. Sorrow was born a noble, has noble blood, married to the late second prince, who was of no importance to the crown unless the first prince died. I was expendable. Our marriage vows can be released, especially since I am dead. She is beautiful, fully educated since I taught her a lot more, single, and worthy enough to be a Princess of the realm. What man in the right mind would not want her? Especially Haftor, the Captain of the Guard, who has been in love with her since he first laid eyes on her…"

Loki kicked the water, causing the fish to dash away and disappear, as he cried out in frustration, though not too loud.

Thor put a hand on Loki's shoulder once more. "I do not believe the Lady Sorrow would absolve your marriage vows, Loki. She loves you, everyone can see that."

Loki shook Thor's hand off his shoulder, walking back over to their fire and taking the fish off the roasting stick. He set his own fish aside, having lost his appetite. Thor wasn't hungry at that moment, wrapped up in the conversation.

"I know that Sorrow loved me… but it has been twenty years Thor. Hearts can change. She will have been lonely this whole time, at least taking a lover."

Thor shook his head. "You must trust me when I say this. Sorrow would never take a lover, not when it is you who holds her heart."

Loki sneered. "A selfish, overbearing man such as I? After a while, Sorrow will have remarried, if not for love than for companionship. And I will never see her again."

It was obvious Loki had been thinking about this for too long, convinced himself that Sorrow would have moved on and remarried. Thor knew his Jane was still waiting for him. He was confident that Jane would never take a lover.

Memories of the past surfaced, ones that made his heart heavy with guilt thinking about them now. Perhaps these past experiences were where Loki's fear came from. Sigyn, leaving Loki because she could not stand him. Amora, tricking Loki to get to Thor, shattering the younger's heart. Freya, leaving Loki to be with another man. All had left him, and Thor knew this is why Loki doubted himself.

But before Thor could say so, Loki spoke quietly. "If she truly has moved on, then I wish her happiness, as she deserves it more than anyone in the entire nine realms. If I find that another man has taken her heart, another man brings her happiness, I will let her go peacefully."

No more words were spoken as they finally ate their fish and dressed in their now-dry armor, packing up camp and heading out for Asgard, sure to arrive in a few days.

* * *

A few days later, Sorrow was talking with Jane, as Jane was one of the only people who understood her pain, the pain of rumors, the pain of losing a husband, when she was informed that the Captain of the Guard wished to see her.

Sorrow sighed, standing up, dark circles under her eyes as she still didn't sleep well. She made her way through the silent halls, wondering what Haftor wanted with her. Hopefully he wasn't trying to woo her again.

Haftor was on a balcony, the servant that had escorted Sorrow bowing and leaving quickly. Haftor's eyes lit up when he saw Sorrow, a smile spreading across his face as he kissed her hand, making Sorrow shift uncomfortably.

"Lady Sorrow. It is wonderful to see you."

"What do you need, Captain?" Sorrow asked, hoping to keep it formal. She noticed that he still held her hand in his.

"I have known you for a long time, my lady. I know that you still grieve for your late husband, but there are other opportunities for you. You are young, and can easily remarry another. You don't have to be alone."

Sorrow pulled away, wrenching her hand from his. "I'm not-"

Haftor cut her off. "Do not pretend that you aren't. I see your miserable gaze when you think no one is looking. I know that your heart aches with loneliness. One that only a man can soothe."

Sorrow scoffed at Haftor's arrogance. He had given her speeches like this many times, each one getting haughtier than the last. Sorrow glared at him. "I do not want you."

Haftor suddenly pulled her to him, whispering into her ear. "Are you sure about that, my lady?" And then he was kissing her.

* * *

Loki walked in right at that moment, both princes having been found just earlier, Loki having been directed the balcony by a servant. He froze, seeing Haftor's lips on Sorrow's, seeing them so close together. His numbed mind worked quickly as he turned on his heel and ran, just as Haftor glanced at him, not recognizing him in the fraction of a second that he saw the prince.

* * *

It all happened within a split second.

Sorrow shoved herself away from Haftor, her cheeks heated with fury as she backhanded the Captain across the face and stormed off, telling him that if he ever came near her again, she would use a dagger to keep him away. Loki had taught her how to use a dagger, and she was very close to driving it into the Captain's shoulder.

Sorrow stormed through the halls, passing several people who looked at her quizzically, having thought her and Loki would have been together by now.

As soon as Sorrow reached the empty corridors that lead to her and Loki… her chambers, she started crying, tears falling fast out of her deep blue eyes. When she reached her chambers, she pressed herself against the wall in her bedchambers, sliding down to sitting as her hands started shaking. She began weeping, clutching her hair in fists as her heart wrenched painfully, beating harder and harder. She felt as though she couldn't breathe, as if the very air itself was poison which she had to expel out of her lungs, choking on that darkness that fed her mind. She pressed her forehead to the golden wall, her shoulders shaking so hard they began to ache as her heart beat against its cage of bones. She cupped a hand over her mouth as she sucked in a ragged breath, thumping her other fist weekly against the wall, choking air in, pushing it back out.

She had let him kiss her. And she had thought of Loki as he had done so. And she hated Haftor for it, for reminding her of Loki's lips, of Loki's whispers. She hated Haftor's attempts to win her heart, to dominate her. She hated how he thought he knew her heart.

She missed Loki. She missed him so badly she knew she would not be able to live anymore without him. She curled up against the wall, leaning her head against it as tears continued to stream down her face. Pressed the hand with her wedding ring to her heart, closing her eyes. "Loki…" She choked out. "Please…. please… I can't… I can't take it anymore… I can't do this every day... please..." How pathetic those pleas sounded, even to her own ears. But she simply couldn't stop those madly uttered words.

* * *

He had been preparing himself to let her go, to go find her and talk to her. To absolve their marriage. He had been holding back a mix of angry tears when Sorrow had stormed into the room, throwing the door closed with a bang. Loki had turned invisible as soon as he saw her, watching as she sank down against the wall, sobbing and clutching her hair, curling up against the wall and holding her hand to her heart as she whispered his name.

Loki's heart picked up as she began pleading… for what, he didn't know. Eventually, she stopped crying, staring at her hand. At a ring. Their wedding ring.

"I miss you, Loki… I miss you… I know you're not dead… Haftor is wrong. He's wrong and stupid, trying to convince me that I can move on."

Loki was so stunned by her words, such sweet words to his heart, that he could only stand there, cloaked in transparency as Sorrow pushed herself to her feet, falling onto the bed, burying her face in his pillow, taking a deep breath as she began weeping. Never in his life had he heard such a pure sound. A sound of pure sorrow. It was different to read in a book about someone weeping, or seeing some peasant on the street crying their souls out.

It was different. There was something in the air that was too hard to describe. Something so thick and harsh that it forced those gasped breaths and uttered words from the woman's throat. Now, he could only stand there, paralyzed, as he watched her tense shoulders shake violently, her face buried in his own pillow.

Never... never had he seen Sorrow weep with such... sorrow. Such grief. In all the years he had known her. It wasn't something he wanted to see again.

Loki finally dropped the invisibility spell and stumbled towards the bed, allowing himself to drink in her beauty, her features, her sounds, her cries. Her. Sorrow noticed him before he got to the bed, stifling a panicked scream as she realized who it was.

Loki barely had time to blink as he was tackled, Sorrow wrapping her arms around his neck, shaking and sobbing. Loki had been planning on speaking words… but none came. And none needed to as Sorrow kissed him, not letting him breathe proper as she kissed him long, deeply, making sure that he was real. Sorrow leaned her head on his shoulder, suppressing the sobs as she heard Loki's whispers in her ear, promising that he was here, that he was back, that he loved her. She breathed in his scent, the scent of fire and stream and fish and metal.

"Loki… you were dead." She whispered.

"No. I was gone. But I'm back now."

Sorrow shivered, clutching Loki's armor harder, her knuckles a painful white. She tried to force words out of her mouth, but no more came as she couldn't speak. She sank into Loki's embrace, feeling his hand run through her hair.

Loki pulled back first, still holding her arms. "I am sorry, My Queen. I cannot bear to think of what I put you through, being assumed dead. I must also apologize, for I could not help but think this entire past year that you had moved on, taken a lover, married. I should have never doubted you."

Sorrow felt guilt well up in her throat, remembering just a moment ago as Haftor had kissed her. Her eyes flitted down to the floor. "I… I was not completely faithful… Haftor kissed me…" She choked out, not bearing to lift her gaze to Loki's, fearing the shock that would certainly be on his face. "It was so sudden… I didn't have time to stop it… I-I didn't mean to let him kiss me…"

But Loki already knew, for he had seen it. He tipped her chin up, her eyes finally meeting his as he shushed her panicked explanation. "I know. I saw. I was looking for you, and I him kissing you. But you did not kiss him back, did you?"

* * *

Sorrow's eyes widened at Loki's confession. She shook her head slowly, a tear falling down her cheek as she feared what Loki would do. That he would leave her. "I hit him." She whispered. "I have only ever hit one other person, and that was Brandt. And I threatened him to leave me alone or I would use a dagger next time…"

Loki's head tipped back as he laughed. "I wish I would have stayed to watch, but I was a bit upset at the time. Let me change, and if you would allow me, I would love to stay this time…" Loki hesitantly let Sorrow go, stepping into the closet.

Sorrow glanced at the open balcony doors, the stars shining bright as the sun had barely set. He was back. He was alive. He was okay. Her hands shook as she undid the laces to her dress, changing into her nightgown. She buried herself under the covers, feeling the cold side of the bed, the side that Loki slept on. Her eyes closed as she took a deep breath, trying to still her shaking hands.

Her eyes opened quickly as she felt larger hands entwine with hers, lacing their fingers together. Loki had slipped under the covers without her even knowing. She met his gaze.

"Why are you shaking?" He whispered.

"You're alive… you're alive and I thought you were dead. Loki, you were dead. I worry that I will wake up and you will be another dream." Her voice was uneven.

* * *

Loki wrapped his arms around her, pulling her into his strong arms, body flush against his. Warm. Alive. Real. He traced the scars on her back, feeling the ridges that ran this way and that, a map he had memorized. He kissed her forehead, his lips lingering on her skin as he whispered to her. "I am alive, Sorrow, My Queen. I thought about you every day, longed to hold you, to feel your sweet embrace, your sweet kiss. I love you. I love you, Sorrow."


	13. Chapter 13: Babysitting With Thor

Sorrow held the hand of each of her two children. It was an odd thing to think of, something that made her giddy almost and thrilled when they weren't misbehaving, that she and Loki had two beautiful children. Both looked too much like her and Loki. Hela, with her midnight black hair and deep blue eyes, her slim build and cheekbones. Fenrir with his messy mop of brown hair and icy blue eyes, full face, mischievous demeanor, and a grin that looked frighteningly like Loki's.

Even though Hela and Fenrir never got along, she still admired how they schemed together. Getting revenge on someone who insulted their parents, playing pranks on their Aunt Yvette, who would turn around and prank them, and even coming up with elaborate plans to steal desserts and cookies from the kitchens, Eirrah running after them with a wooden spoon, threatening to beat their little bottoms if they came back, but always smiling at the two of them as they ran away giggling.

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"NO!"

"YES!"

The fighting between her children escalated to the point where she stopped walking and let go of both their hands, staring down at them, her hands crossed. "Please. Your father and I want to enjoy today. Be good for your Uncle Thor. Fenrir, no touching or trying to steal Mjolnir. Hela, no setting your Aunt Jane on fire."

Hela grinned, her pointy white teeth flashing with pride. "She deserved it. She's an annoying mortal."

Sorrow rolled her eyes, making a mental note to talk to Loki about that later. "She is your Aunt, and possibly your future Queen." Sorrow leaned down and tapped Hela's nose. "She might just banish you for all the times you've set her on fire and cut up her dresses."

Hela sighed. "Fine. I won't set her on fire…"

"Or cut her dresses." Sorrow encouraged.

"... or cut up her dresses." Hela added grudgingly.

Sorrow sighed and took both of them by the hand and knocked on the door to Thor and Jane's chambers. Thor opened the door and smiled. "Hello, sister."

Sorrow rolled her eyes. Thor insisted on calling her his sister. "Hello, Thor."

Thor looked down at the two children who were grinning up at him, and he could see in their eyes they were planning, scheming without talking aloud. He swallowed nervously. This was for his brother. He was doing this for him. He forced a grin onto his own face, and cheerfully invited the children in. The two of them shuffled into the room, and Thor could have sworn he heard a snicker come from one of them.

"Thank you so much, Thor." Sorrow said with a pleasant smile.

"It is no big deed. Enjoy your time with my brother." Thor swallowed his anxiety of his brother's children in his home, trying to look less nervous. The last time they had come, which was almost a year ago, they had almost blown a hole in the palace. He didn't know how the small, calm woman managed them.

"If they become too…. burdening… you can always send them to Elysa's house."

"There will be no need, I am sure of it, sister." Thor assured her while trying to assure himself.

Sorrow glared at the children, a motherly glare, nothing too cold. "You two behave." She bent down and gathered them into her arms. "I love you. Please. Please be good. Please." She plead, but she was trying to stop what was only natural for them.

"I promise, mother!" Fenrir shouted enthusiastically. "I'll be the bestest son ever! I'm already dad's favorite."

Hela glared at him, punching him in the arm. "No! I'm his favorite! You're stupid!"

"No! I'm his favorite!"

"No!"

"Yes!"

"No!"

Sorrow cut them off. "You are both our favorites. Hela, you are my favorite daughter. Fenrir, you are my favorite son. Now do as you're told. If I learned you were bad again, do you remember what happens?"

Both children paled. "We get time-out for three days in our room…" Hela muttered.

Sorrow had learned the hardest punishment for them was sitting still. So, they got "time-out" often. And the punishment never dulled. Ever since she had figured this out, they were better behaved. Mostly. She wondered if this is what Loki had been like as a small boy.

She stood and gave Thor one last thanks. As Thor closed the door, the children turned to look at him, a smirk on each youthful face.


	14. Chapter 14: In Wake of Ash

Smoke filled the room, a fire burning through dead alien bodies. Sorrow felt the world around her shimmer, her eyes becoming silver, reflecting her nightmare to the outside world. But she didn't see anyone. She only saw the smoke, heard the vicious screams of monsters and felt their claws ripping down the back, similar to the feeling of a whip.

She clutched her head, trying to block out the sounds, the terrible, ear-splitting sounds of rage and war. She could feel the contention in the air, like a heat wave above the desert. She could see it boiling to the surface, ready to explode while people around her dropped dead, clawing at her feet and begging for help with dry, raspy voices of panic.

But she was frozen. Her feet were sunk into the ashy earth. She couldn't move, and she could feel them trying to get through to her, hearing some voices on the other side of this nightmare, a voice that sounded like… like… Loki. It was Loki. He was yelling something at her. His yells mixed in with the screams of those around her, all full of agonizing pain. Tears streamed down her ashen face, dirt and grime being washed by the shining tears of hopelessness. Complete and utter darkness consumed her mind.

But there was that voice again, ever persistent. But it felt like the voice was slammed back into the recesses of her mind, making her forget what a voice of comfort even sounded like.

And then, there was Him. Brandt. His dark figure slowly making his way through the burning corpses. A grin stretched across his face, his gait cool and even, his eyes narrowed, locked on her. "Sssslave." He hissed into the scorching air. "Look who I always manage to find. My. Little… Sparrow." He grinned, his blonde hair being tousled by the breeze that brought the smell of singed blood.

He was too close all of the sudden. Sorrow felt a scream choke in her throat, forcing itself to stay their. She watched him with wide eyes as he took one. Step. After. Another.

He towered over her, that sadistic grin plastered over his mouth. He reached out, cupping the sides of her face with both hands, his mead drenched breath hitting her like a brick wall. More and more and more and more tears. Her heart thundered in her chest and her body was locked in place. She could not move if she wanted to.

And then, they were on the floor, he was holding her down, still cupping the sides of her face, his thumbs brushing over her cheeks, wiping away the tears. And then, Brandt disappeared for just a second and she saw Loki. The fires and screaming and death flickered away and she saw the mortal warriors behind Loki, Thor at his side. Loki was saying something, his mouth was moving. She was in some sort of sterile, white room.

She concentrated on his lips, the sounds and words coming from his mouth.

"Do you trust me?" He was saying.

Sorrow gasped out a yes, clutching at his hands, not wanting him to disappear, but he was already leaving her. His hands were glowing and it was Brandt again, his skin black, his eyes red, his hair made of embers. But she focused on his mouth, reading what he was saying. "I am going to help you, Sorrow. Sorrow, look at me. Look at me. I will get it out of your mind. I will help you, but I need you to calm down. Can you calm down for me?"

But Brandt's hand found her throat and she couldn't breathe, smoke choking her lungs. "Brandt!" She screamed, thrashing to get away from him.

* * *

Loki held her thrashing body as silver tears ran down her face, her eyes like mirrors. He could see smoke and ash, see his reflection in her gaze as that of her worst nightmare. He heard her scratched voice, screaming that it was Brandt, to stop, to get away.

He ignored the mortals who were in the room. Not all of them, only a few. Stark, Banner, and the Archer, Barton. He didn't know why they were in here at all, and if it weren't for Thor, Loki would have kicked them out as soon as they even stepped foot in the room. Supposedly Stark and Banner were standing by in case any help was needed, mentally or technical. But they only threw Loki off more. Their judging stares on the back of his head, comparing him to the monster they had known in New York all those years ago.

And now, to see him actually care about some form of life.

The only other Avengers were Widow and the Soldier, who preferred to do something useful by staying out of Loki's way.

Sorrow jerked painful. Loki kept speaking, trying to get her attention, but every time he got it, she would lose it again. "Sorrow. Look at me. Calm down. Breathe. It is only a vision. Nothing more. Brandt is not here. He is in prison. He cannot hurt you."

Sorrow's mirror gaze locked onto his. She was breathing heavily, her chest heaving with sobs. "You're not… Loki. You are ash!" She whispered shakily.

"Ash?" Loki asked. "Sorrow, what do you mean by ash?"

Sorrow shook her head vigorously, her gaze falling from his as she started panicking again, wrestling to escape his grip. Loki held her firmly, but her struggle was so harsh that he feared he might hurt her. "Thor! Help me hold her down!" Loki commanded.

Thor hurried to help, holding her down the best he could. "What is wrong with her, brother? Is she possessed?"

Loki sighed. "No. She is cursed. I don't know how this happened, but it has. She is stuck in her worst nightmare."

"What is her worst nightmare?" Thor asked.


	15. Chapter 15: Because of Words

Loki tried to keep those raging thoughts from reaching him, but it failed. The biting grief that filled his chest was overwhelming. And, for some reason, when he saw Sorrow he could only think of his mother's ethereal body as it was lifted into the sky, stars cast into the heavens.

Why? Why did he feel as though his wife was somehow at fault?

Loki sat in his study, staring into a nothingness that seemed to sooth his mind, pretending that his mother hadn't been viciously murdered by a Dark Elf trying to get his hands on Thor's puny wife.

And while she was being run through with a sword, he had been with Sorrow, making sure she was safe before he ran off to aid Thor.

If she hadn't been such a distraction, his mother might still be alive. He could have saved her.  
Loki picked up the glass of water from his desk and threw it as hard as he could at the nearest wall, the glass shattering, water flying through the air, all over his papers, smearing the ink.

Sorrow heard the glass shatter, getting to Loki's study quickly to see what had happened. She hadn't seen him since the funeral had ended hours ago because he had locked himself in the room.

When Loki turned around, the rage in his eyes shone brighter than she had ever seen. Her deep blue eyes shifted to the shattered glass on the floor by the wall, something that obviously wasn't an accident.

Sorrow sighed, taking a few steps towards Loki before he said a few angry words under his breath through gritted teeth.

"What?" She asked cautiously.

Loki didn't look at her as he said it Again. "Get. Out." He said, his voice raw with anger and hurt.

"Loki, please. Don't shut me out."

"Get out." Loki hissed.

Sorrow tried to meet his gaze, but he refused to look at her. "Loki-"

"OUT!" Loki snarled.  
Sorrow's hands curled into loose fists. "So, what? Are you going to lock yourself in here for weeks and blame yourself for Frigga's death?"

"I do not blame myself."

"Then who do you blame? Thor? Jane? Odin? Who is it this time?!"

Loki's gaze finally pierced hers. "If you had not distracted me, I would have gotten to her in time."

Sorrow's mouth parted slightly in shock. "That's not fair and you know it."  
"Leave. Me. Be. I do not wish to see you." Loki's words dripped with venom.

"That is not fair! You cannot blame me for this!"

Loki turned his back to her, his dented armor and black hair the only thing she could see. He didn't say a word from then on.

"Loki! Look at me!"

Nothing.

Sorrow turned sharply away from him, tears stinging her eyes. She stormed out, hearing the door slam behind her, the lock clicking, echoing like a war drum through the room.

* * *

Days later, Loki was still in his study.

Sorrow worried. She heard nothing, never saw him come out for food. It was almost as though he wasn't even there. But she could feel the hurt, like weights in the air, the air that she breathed, going into her heart and lungs, throughout her body. She could only breathe in hurt and rage.

She took a deep breath, wrapping her hand around the door knob and trying it, already knowing that it was locked. She knocked quietly on the door, hearing nothing but silence. "Loki?" She asked.

Nothing.

She sighed. "Loki, please come out. You need to eat something."

Still, silence.

"Please." She whispered. "Everyone worries. Thor, Jane, Sif, the Warriors three. They all worry. I... I worry." Her voice caught in her throat, any further words refusing to come as tears ran down her pale face.

She cupped her hands over her eyes, her breath leaving her as she slowly collapsed to her knees. She didn't breathe until her lungs started to burn. She sucked in a breath and started to sob. She rocked back and forth, letting all her anguish into the air, yet she did not make a sound.

Her blue eyes were bloodshot from the lack of sleep, heavy circles confessing that she hadn't slept in days. Sorrow stayed there, in front of Loki's door, for two weeks, not eating or sleeping. She would knock on his door every few hours, pleading with him to come out and talk to her, but she never got a reply. Yet she could feel that anger radiating from the room, the intense rage. Every now and then she heard him throw something, and it would shatter against the wall.

Every time she heard glass shatter, it took her back to that night, when she hid in a closet after being dishonored by Brandt. She had broken a glass jar, as well as the necklace Loki had given her.

After nine more days of sitting in front of his door, her stomach burning with hunger, her head pounding with weakness as she hadn't slept more than a minute, she finally stood up, knocking on the door one last time. "Loki?" She whispered, her voice cracking with misuse. "Loki… I cannot do this anymore. It's been nearly two weeks… please… please come out. Talk to me."

She heard nothing.

"Please."

Her heart deflated, then. It seemed as if the world collapsed in on her. She knew why Loki still wouldn't come out. More than three weeks ago, he had told her to leave. To get out. And now, she had been defeated. He wanted her gone. He wanted her to pack up and go, if not for a little while. Or, at least, that thought filled her mind and convinced her of its truth.

She knew it was rude to go to her mother's house without writing first, but Elysa always felt as though she owed her daughter for the years they had lost. So, Sorrow prayed Elysa was home and started to pack a bag. She got the bag out, setting it on the bed and glancing around the room. Nothing caught her attention. Nothing that she needed. Everything she owned Loki had provided. She could not bring herself to take anything that was his.

So, she changed into some clothes Elysa had given her months ago during a shopping trip and made sure that nothing she had with her was Loki's. She packed the rest of Elysa's gifted clothing into the bag and closed it, not finding anything else. Her footsteps were heavy as she approached the door, but her finger seemed to burn as she started walking through it.

She looked down at her hand, realizing she was wearing her wedding ring. Loki had given it to her. He had knelt on one knee and gazed into her eyes, taking her hand as her heart had pounded furiously, just as it did now. But her heart pounded with heaviness, not happiness.

She slid the ring off her finger with a little effort, as she hadn't taken it off in the two years they had been married. She gazed at the simple gold band, with a single diamond in the center, runes etched on the inside of the ring. It was her promise to stay with Loki, to never leave him. To stand with him in times of sickness and health and all manner of affliction.

But, she realized as tears sprung into her eyes, she couldn't keep that promise if the match to her ring didn't want to see her face again.

She set her bags on the floor, taking shaky steps back into the room and placing the wedding ring on the floor in front of Loki's locked office door. It gleamed, a sparkle in the pure diamond, as a tiny ray of sunlight hit it. It seemed to her as if it shone a little more dimly than it did before.

And with tears pouring from her eyes, shaking hands, and a pain in her hollow chest, she clicked the door to their chambers closed, picking up her lightly packed bag, and left, a weary traveler once more.

* * *

She arrived at Elysa's house well past midnight. The bumpy carriage ride had been enough to keep her awake, and she had stared at the passing scenery, all emotion leaving her gaze. She did what she had always done best and locked herself up, just as she had when she was a slave. It was harder this time, but she still managed it.

It was a strange thing, really, how one could master the ability to defy their instinct, to bury their heart deep inside their cage of bones and clear their mind of all sorrow.

The carriage came to a halt, rain pattering lightly outside. The couchman jumped down from his perch, the rain dripping off his black cloak. He opened her door, lowering the metal steps that descended to the ground. He held out his hand, Sorrow taking it as he helped her down.

She felt weak. She felt frail, as she had when she had been a slave. She hadn't eaten or slept in over three weeks, and if she had, she didn't remember doing so. She tripped on the last step, stumbling as her foot caught on metal and she fell into the arms of the coachman, who caught her and helped her back on her feet, asking her if she was alright.

Sorrow assured the man that she was, and he went to grab her bag.

Sorrow walked up to the large, wooden doors to Elysa's house. There were no candles flickering in the windows, so everyone must have been asleep. The coachman was right behind her with her bag, and he opened the door, a concerned look on his face as Sorrow stared up at the windows, not moving, spacing out.

"This way, my lady." He said kindly, gesturing to the now open door, a servant having let them in.

Sorrow shook her head. "Of course."

She stepped into the warm, richly decorated parlor. It smelled of oranges, and a candle now flickered, the small maid holding it. "My lady, should I wake the Lady Elysa?"

Sorrow shook her head. "No. You can go back to rest. I can find my own way to my rooms, and my mother doesn't need to be woken up at such a late time." Sorrow took her bag from the coachman, who bowed, wishing her health, before he turned around and left.

Sorrow wandered up the stairs, turning through halls and corridors until she got to the very back, most far end room in the entire estate. The room that had been hers since she was a baby. Far away from Elysa's.

She opened the room, dust filling her lungs as the door merely swinging open stirred up the irritating particles. She hadn't slept here for ten years now, and Elysa hadn't touched anything. She wandered farther into the room, set her bag on the floor, pulled the dust sheet off her bed, which smelled a little stale but was clean and made, and collapsed into the lavender sheets, falling asleep for the first time in a while, the last thing that graced her mind being Loki's rage-filled eyes.

* * *

Loki didn't know how long it had been until Sorrow's pleas finally stopped. Each day, he had sat in his tall chair, his arms folded across his chest as he listened to her soft voice, which grew more cracked and strained over time, until is was there were no more. In a way, it had been a comfort, the constant pleading for him to talk to her, to come out of his prison, his isolating, his one comfort.

But, nothing could stop his now-set mind, which only replayed the death of his mother, and the few moments before and after.

Running to his chambers to see if Sorrow was alright because he heard her scream. He had burst through the doors, his frantic eyes catching the figure that laid on the floor, hands over her ears.

The blast had been fairly close to the room, having shaken the floor.

Tears ran down her face, her body petrified from the loud boom.

He had run to her, touching her arm and speaking to her until she finally looked up at him, her gaze distant and confused. Outside, their were more explosions, more shaking.

He picked her up, as she was too shocked to do anything, and run to the closet, opening it, and pulling a lever that lead to a secret study. Stairs dropped down, and he ran down into the darkness, lighting a torch with his magic and setting her on a large, fur-covered chair. He lit several more candles and torches with his magic until the whole room was lit up.

She was shaking, still frozen from the explosion that had gone off not ten feet from her.

He had kissed her on the cheek, telling her that everything would be alright, and that he would be right back, that she would be safe. To stay put and be quiet.

Then, he had run back up the stairs, pulling the lever and sealing her in, and rushed back out to look for Thor, only to end up on his way to Frigga's chambers, where she was slaughtered in front of him.

Loki shook his head, the vivid memory draining away as the silence once more ebbed at his conscience.

He had waited for a long time, listening for her sitting outside his door, but he heard none. Still, he refused to go out there. He could not bare to look into her sea blue eyes and feel that burning rage once more.

He knew he wasn't being fair, that Frigga's death wasn't her fault. It was his. And yet, she had been a distraction. She would have been perfectly fine if he had simply left her in his chambers.

He still saw his mother, a knife sliding up and through her heart as a massive brute held her regal, and then limp, body in its hands, letting her fall to the floor with a heavy thud, her swords clattering beside her.

He could have saved her.

Finally, after what he guessed had been weeks, perhaps even longer than a month, he was compelled to find food. He unlocked the door, having not heard Sorrow's voice for a long time. But he was still expecting her to be there, to beg him for forgiveness as she had a hundred times over.

But she wasn't.

When he opened the heavy door, the world outside was completely still, and completely empty of life.

He peered out into their chambers, realizing it had been cleaned over and over, until even the stone shone with polish, a habit Sorrow gave in to whenever she was stressed. But, by the looks of the thin layer of dust on the polished everything, she hadn't been there for a while.

This made an uneasy feeling creep into his chest. He finally took a step outside, only to feel something underfoot. He glanced down, his gaze focusing on the small ring that laid on the floor, now at his feet. Sorrow's ring. Her wedding ring. He slowly bent down and picked it up, feeling for once the biting cold on the metal surface.

His heart twisted, knowing that he had done this, that he had pushed her away. But Frigga once more flashed in his mind.

Frigga was dead.

Loki collapsed to his knees, confusion riddling his mind and turning his heart inside and out. He felt the sting of Frigga's death once more. Yet, this time, there was something else. A sickening dread that came with the ring. A promise that he had broken. Sorrow had left it as a reminder of what they'd had, he was sure of it.

He knew she had most likely fled to her mother's house, and yet he could not bring himself to go after her just yet. A little piece of his pride still blamed her for everything that had happened.

So, he clutched her wedding ring tightly in his hand before putting it in his pocket, and then went to find something to eat.

* * *

Sorrow was outside, under an umbrella Thor had given her as a souvenir from Midgard.

It was still raining, it being fall, the orange and gold leaves tumbling off of their branches and splashing to the ground, heavy with water. The sky was a dull grey, the soul-sucking grey that ebbs at your mind, numbing it. The breeze blew a chill past her, and she shivered inside her thin coat.

"You'll catch cold." Sorrow heard a familiar voice.

She mustered her best smile, and turned to see Janine, her red hair still resting in two braids, one on each shoulder. Light freckles sprinkled her nose and cheeks heavily, and her pale green eyes shone with joy. "Janine. I haven't seen you in at least a year." Sorrow said, her energy still flatlining.

Janine's previous smile drained away. "Are you well, Sorrow?"

Sorrow shifted uncomfortably, trying hard to keep her emotions locked up. "Of course. Why would I not be?'

Janine sat down on the wet wooden bench next to her, taking Sorrow's hand. "You look like you just woke up from the dead. When was the last time you slept, or ate for that matter? Norns, you look like you just came from Helheim."

Sorrow rubbed her eye, covering it with her hand. "I'm just a little… stressed. That's all."

Janine's eyebrows drew together. "Is it Brandt?"

That name sent a cold shiver down Sorrow's spine. "No. It is nothing. Really. I am well."

Janine shook her head. "It's Loki again, isn't it?"

Sorrow's gaze fell to the ground, and she watched as tiny raindrops hit a puddle.

"What happened?" Janine asked, concern laced through her very aura.

Sorrow could not bring herself to speak of him. It had been nearly four months since she had left, and he had not visited her once. There was little part of her that thought maybe he didn't know where she was, but the rest of her knew he was avoiding her.

She was expecting to receive word any day now that Loki had gone to the Allfather and absolved their marriage vows.

Janine's eyes grew wide. "You aren't wearing your wedding ring." She touched her fingertips to her mouth, letting go of Sorrow's hand. "Oh Sorrow…" Tears gathered in Janine's eyes. "Why did you not tell me?"

Sorrow shook her head. "It is not official yet. I don't know what he wants to do. I haven't spoken to him in months."

Janine firmly gripped Sorrow's hand once more. "You do not have to tell me if you don't want to, Sorrow. I apologize for forcing you."

Sorrow felt her heart start to swell with pain. She had kept herself locked up like this for too long. She didn't know how she had been able to function as a slave, not feeling anything, not shedding tears, not caring.

That wasn't her anymore. She could not take the brunt force of this caged feeling anymore.

She was quiet for a moment before those sour words slipped from her mouth. "He blames me for the death of his mother."

Janine choked on the air she was breathing. "What?!"

Sorrow twirled the umbrella she held in her hand, the water flying in different directions as the rain continued to patter against the material. "We had a little argument. He locked himself in his study for three weeks. I sat there. I plead. I cried. I begged. He told me to leave. And beyond that, he refused to come out."

Janine wrapped her arms around Sorrow's shoulders, squeezing tightly. "I'm so sorry."

After an hour more of talking, Sorrow and Janine got up and walked into the house as the rain started pouring from the sky, lightning cracking in the ominous clouds and making so much noise Sorrow could barely hear.

Janine hugged Sorrow one last time before she had to leave, not wanting to get caught in the storm. She had moved on to a better job in a different estate clear across the city, and she had to work in the morning.

Sorrow smiled faintly through the window and waved at Janine as the maid climbed into a cheap coach and was pulled away.

Sorrow suddenly felt very sick.

Her head continued to pound with a headache, as it had for the past month. Her hands trembled every time she thought about her estranged husband, who had forced her away just as her mother had. It was something she was becoming used to. Leaving. Being thrown into the hands of Fate. She felt as she had all those years Elysa had shoved her into the arms of a slaver. Loki had shoved her into the arms of despair.

She felt weak. She climbed the stairs and headed back to her room, laid down on her bed, and didn't get back up.

* * *

It had been five months.

Loki found that Sorrow had taken almost nothing. Nothing that he had ever given to her. She had left everything behind, and that only made him think that she didn't want anything to do with him. She must have been furious. She had probably stormed out of their chambers with the intent of never coming back.

And so, he had held off finding her for fear of her wrath.

Sorrow had never been one to get angry easily, but when she did, he was better off in Helheim.

Visions of his Mother's death still riddled his mind, but now they did not sting as much. They only left a hollow feeling in his heart, a reminder that she truly was gone.

He had started going to counsel meetings with Thor a few weeks ago, and his brother had asked where Sorrow was, because she hadn't been seen in awhile.

Loki had said she had gone to visit her mother, having been shaken up by the death of Frigga and wanting to spend some time with Elysa.

This only made bitterness fill his heart once more.

Sorrow still had a mother.

He had begun to sink so far into himself that he could not tell himself the truth any longer, until one day, he had woken up with a strange feeling in his chest.

A feeling that something was wrong. Wrong with Sorrow. Somehow, somewhere, she was in trouble.

And so, Loki had sighed, rubbing the dark circles under his eyes from restless nights, and climbed out of bed, Sorrow's side still untouched.

He decided it was time to visit her.

When he arrived at the Lady Elysa's house, it was evening, the sun barely set.

He had ridden his horse, which was faster than a carriage and easier for him to manage. A servant took his horse to the stables and Loki waited out on the doorstep, trying to gain the courage to knock.

He wondered if Sorrow would be there when he walked in, if she would look at him with the same rage he had shown her months ago.

He held her wedding ring in his hand, and he turned it over several times, feeling the smooth surface, the runes engraved on the inside. He looked at it, wondering if she would take it back, if she would forgive him as she always had, because he had always caused her hurt and pain.

He finally knocked on the solid door, a servant opening it and immediately bowing. "My Prince, what may I do for you?"

Loki sometimes forgot his title as prince, always having lived in the castle where the people weren't nearly so frantic when seeing royalty. "May I come in?" Before he had met Sorrow, he would have regarded a maid with little tolerance, a servant impatience, and a slave with disgust. But he now only felt respect for those who worked so hard to sustain themselves and help others.

The servant curtsied and opened the door all the way, and Loki stepped into the house. Any of the servants who saw him immediately bowed as well, and one even ran out of the room to inform the Lady Elysa of the Prince's arrival.

Loki stood there awkwardly for no more than a minute before Elysa glided into the room, her form still very similar to Sorrow's, her brown eyes focusing on the Prince with the tiniest bit of unease. She curtsied, and Loki took her hand, kissing it lightly before she offered him a seat and some drinks.

Loki declined, not wanting to waste any time.

"What may I do for you, Prince Loki?" Elysa asked.

"I believe you know why I am here."

Elysa sighed, wringing her hands nervously. "Sorrow?"

Loki nodded. "Could you please tell her I am here? Maybe ask her to come talk to me?"

Elysa's eyes shifted to the side. "I… I am sorry. Sorrow has taken ill for at least a month now. She can barely sit up, much less leave her bed. She is most likely asleep right now, but you may go up to her if you wish."

Loki's heart beat fast. He knew she made herself sick whenever something bad happened between the two of them. He hadn't even been thinking about that. She wouldn't eat, wouldn't sleep, and worried herself until she became sick.

He sighed, knowing that he was most likely the cruelest husband she could ask for, though they rarely fought.

He was lead up the stairs by the same servant that had greeted him at the door. She led him through hall after hall, turning this way and that, past corridor after corridor until they had reached the farthest bedroom in the entire house.

Loki had never seen Sorrow's childhood bedroom, nor had he been inside, but he knew why it was so far away. Elysa's bedroom was probably on the other side of the estate.

The servant knocked opened the door slowly, and Loki stepped into a lavender colored room, with white walls and lavender furniture. There was a window seat, with heavy curtains that blocked any light from entering outside. There was a single candle on the night stand, and it flickered as a breeze from the hallway intruded into the cold room.

There was a maid at Sorrow's bedside, Loki knowing her immediately as Janine, who was reading a book. She looked back at them, a glare settling over her features as she looked at Loki, fury in her green eyes.

She had never been afraid of the Prince of Asgard.

The servant escorting Loki left the room, the door closing behind him.

Janine stood up, marching over to him. "You better make it up to her." She spat in a whisper before leaving the room.

Loki sighed, knowing this scene was all too familiar. Sorrow sick in bed, heavy with a fever, a washcloth over her forehead to keep her cool. He took slow steps over to her bed, not knowing how to begin apologizing.

Her eyes were open, glazed over with the fever, but they somehow managed to light up when she saw him.

This made Loki's mind wrack with guilt.

He sat at her bedside, watching as he eyes slowly followed him. She shifted a little under her covers, and her sea blue eyes began to shine with tears.

"Sorrow…" Loki whispered her name. "I… I know not where to begin apologizing..." It was silent for another moment. "I was wrong, Sorrow. I was wrong to blame you for something so both your control and min

* * *

e. If anything, it was mine own fault. I come to beg your foregiveness. I know I have hurt you. You, a Goddess. You, who are patient, loving, and kind... all the things that I am not. And now you see the monster I am, because I dare lay such blame on you." "I dare hurt you. I dare drag myself into your presence after such things I have said. You, who has the purest heart in all the nine realms."

"And I, I am a selfish, terrible man. I hurt you. I hurt you, and I am sorry. But words... words... I have so many words." Loki scoffed at himself. "So many words that I could never put together to express how truly, how deeply, I am sorry. I am sorry. I am sorry, My Queen, My Goddess. My Sorrow."

Sorrow's eyes closed and she turned away from him, her shoulders shaking with silent cries as she wept. "I need time." Her voice cracked.

"I love you, Sorrow." He whispered. He knew that he should leave, then. He should give her space. Though he did not want to, he knew she needed time alone. He felt her wedding ring heavy in his pocket, but he kept it. He stood up, his heart pounding as he walked over to her door.

He did not know when he would see her next.

* * *

Sorrow ran those words through her head. His apology. She knew he was sincere, and yet, she could only lay in her bed and weep.

Her heart was beating with the pressure of pain, her chest tightening. There had been desperation in his voice. An anger at himself. He had said her name with reverence.

But she still didn't know if she could go back. If she could do this every time he decided to push her away. Before, she had waited like a dog at his doorstep, pleading and yapping for him to open the door. But now, she felt like the dog that ran away from home.

Either way, she felt like a dog.

A sick, wounded, lost dog.

* * *

 **Hello readers! Thank you for taking the time to read this, I've been working on it all week. I know I left it on kind of a cliffhanger, but I felt like the story had been told. I may write the ending to this in the future, but it's unlikely. I wanted to explore a different side to both of them. Sorrow's hesitance to go back and Loki's pride, which really isn't new, but I feel as though I've never written anything in their relationship that showed such a low point. In Sorrow's Pain, they always sort of get along, and there is instant forgiveness after a fight... but that's not really how it is. Words don't cure everything, and Loki is beginning to learn that even though Sorrow has always forgiven him, and always will by the way, some wounds are deeper than others, and take longer to heal.**

 **Thank you again for reading!**

 **-SB'Kitty**

 **Don't forget to COMMENT!**

 **Favorite!**

 **and**

 **Follow!**

 **:)**


	16. Chapter 16: Forgiveness

It was late at night, not a star remaining uncovered by the thick blanket of clouds that rolled over Asgard, intent to stay there for the next month, pouring Spring showers on the golden city. A chill swept through the air, making the rain shiver.

It was her first night back.

Loki had apologized over the course of four months. Meanwhile, she had stayed at her mother's house slowly regaining her health. She had even gone on a few trips with her mostly estranged family, spending more time with Yvette and getting to know Erick better.

But no matter how many people she had surrounded herself with, she had always felt alone. Her heart had felt hollow, like a pit with a snake slowly coiling around it, making it beat. Every night she had fallen asleep shivering, missing his strong, protective arms around her, especially when Brandt appeared in her dreams, taunting her, telling her that Loki didn't love her, that the longer she stayed away from her husband, the farther apart their hearts grew until one day, they would become strangers bound by two golden chains. One of which she didn't have.

Her ring finger felt bare. Before this whole mess, she had often times fiddled with it, touched it, looked at it for comfort in times of hardship.

The longer she stayed away, the more her fears had grown. She had imagined Loki taking lovers as he had done so long ago in his youth, before his Fall. She imagined him becoming so impatient for her forgiveness that he simply cut their marriage ties and found someone else. She even thought about him returning to Sigyn.

She knew these were frivolous thoughts that most likely held no truth.

Loki had visited her as much as she had permitted for as long as he could. Once a week he would travel out to Elysa's estate, disregarding his royal duties as the Prince of Asgard, and visit her. He would bring her Autumn Crocus' and chocolates, strange delicacies from foreign nations, and jewelry engraved with runes of devotion and love, healing and affection.

But never once did he pressure her to return to him.

He had always left it up to her.

He had apologized every time he came, and apologized every time he left, telling her he loved her, and that he was sorry for hurting her.

Many times during those few months she had thought about forgiving him, about dropping the hurt and the anguish that clouded her heart as heavily as clouds blocked the stars that night, but she couldn't. She would remember what he had told her, accused her of, going so far as to push her out of his life for weeks until she left.

Her heart couldn't stand being let down so often and weighed down so heavily every time she was an inconvenience to someone she loved.

But finally, she could take it no more. She couldn't hold a grudge for so long as it only served to drive nails into her grief.

She returned from a trip with her family and went straight back to the estate, pacing the floors of her room over and over, thinking of what to say to him when he walked through her door.

Would she apologize? Would she simply start off by saying that she had forgiven him? Would she write a letter to him in advance and tell him? Or would she refuse to see him and come home on her own?

Eventually, when that knock came, she went downstairs to greet him. Her legs were shaking so hard that she swore she was bouncing up and down. Her hands vibrated with nerves, and she clenched them tightly, trying to conceal her anxiety.

Loki tipped the hood of his cloak off his head, rainwater still dripping off the black fabric. He ran a hand through his raven locks and smiled at her. No, not just at her. He smiled as if she was the only reason in the whole of the nine realms to smile. As if she was the most lovely goddess he had ever laid eyes on, and always would would be. He smiled at her as though he ached just as badly to hold her in his arms as she did him.

He smiled as if she was his whole world.

As if he would wait an eternity just to hear the sweet words of forgiveness she had not yet offered.

Sorrow had dressed in a silky, blue-gray, simple dress with a thick, warm brown shawl wrapped around her shoulders. If she was to talk to him, she wanted to be outside where she could breathe, where she knew nobody would be listening, where she could let her heart's shattered pieces be pieced back together.

Loki had looked at her in confusion, seeing her shaking, almost terrified form. His brow had creased with concern.

She asked him if they could take a walk, that she needed to tell him something.

Loki had agreed quickly, a spark of hope in his gaze as he put his hood back up and helped wrap her own cloak around her shoulders as her hands kept shaking so hard she could barely manage on her own.

She put her hood up, and Loki offered to hold her Midgardian Umbrella, which was really an ingenious creation, as they went outside.

For a long while they wandered in silence, walking along the stone path through the lush, green gardens. A slight fog chilled the air, and the rain continued to pour.

When she could handle the anxiety no longer, she stopped walking suddenly.

"Loki… I need to talk to you…"

There was something in Loki's gaze then. Fear, maybe. Or perhaps, there was something even stronger, something even more potent than fear. A deep, ancient feeling, something akin to both terror and his worst nightmare. Sorrow knew he had realized she'd come to her decision. Whether to stay or leave, the seconds seemed to make both their hearts beat faster.

"I… I have done a lot of thinking over these past few months, and I know… I know this past year had been hard on the both of us… but I think… I don't know. I guess I just-"

Sorrow sighed in frustration as she tried to let her feelings out, to tell Loki exactly how she had been feeling for almost a whole year.

"I know you were hurting, but you should have let me in! You shouldn't have cast those awful accusations in the first place! And even after you had, I waited at your doorstep for three WEEKS. Weeks, Loki. I waited for you to come out and talk, but you did not. I was even willing to apologize and take the fall for your accusations because I DIDN'T WANT TO LOSE YOU. You didn't even come for me until months after Frigga's death! I know you were grieving for her, but you blamed me for her death! Do you know how hard of a burden that is to bear when one of the only people in all the nine realms you love accuses you of something like that?

"I can't do this every time you get angry with me. We need to talk more, Loki. I want to live with you and love you and maybe have a family with you one day, but we need to be a team. I need you to meet me halfway, otherwise I can't do this anymore. I can't take the fall for your pride any longer. I've forgiven you Loki, but you need to promise me you'll try to change."

By the time she had said what she needed to, her words had already begun to fail her as tears had filled her eyes and run down her face, her chest heaving with cries of its own, and soon she was weeping.

She felt his arms around her, a feeling she had been longing for for a year almost. She had poured her heart into those words, yet they seemed useless to her as Loki held her, tears of his own joining hers.

"I promise, Sorrow. I swear by the Fates of Yggdrasil that I will never again harm you as I have with pride. I have been unfair to you since we met, and it is because I am a foolish man with too much pride and not enough understanding."

Sorrow tried to deny his words, but he wouldn't let her.

He pulled away, brushing his thumb over her cheek as he looked into her blue, blue eyes. "My pride has always been my downfall. If I had only learned the same lesson as Thor did in those three days he spent on Midgard, I may not have committed the treason I had, concerning both my nation and my family… Sorrow, I have always been a fool. I was raised to be a king, yes, but I have lived to be an arrogant fool."

Loki sighed, flipping back his hood, the rain drenching his face and hair in seconds, only to mix with the tears that now streamed down his face. The rain thundered around them, the umbrella on the ground, forgotten when he had embraced her.

Sorrow's hood was now back as well, and Loki could see the heartache in her eyes, the pain he had caused her. He felt her wedding ring weighing heavily in his pocket and he slowly took it out, watching as Sorrow's eyes followed it.

"Sorrow… come back... please. I will get on my knees and beg if that is what it takes. It had been too long, and too much misery has become the both of us. I swear I will never…" Loki trailed off as he watched a light in Sorrow's eyes grow until they were shining.

He gently picked up her left hand, his heart beating with the very thunder that shook the skies. His always steady hands began to shake the tiniest bit, and he slowly slid the ring back onto her ring finger.

He took a breath then, a deep breath, as though he had never breathed air before.

That hopeless night came crashing back, the agony of his words... starting this whole thing in the first place hit him like Mjolnir. He sank to his knees, his arms trembling as he held her hands. "Sorrow…" Loki whispered, his voice breaking.

Sorrow sank to her knees, wrapping her arms around his neck as they both shed their tears together, finally able to feel as though the weight of the realms did not rest on their backs. They could breathe, knowing that even though there would be hard times to come, it did not matter, because they were together again. And together, they could defeat any obstacle to come their way.

So, as Sorrow laid in Loki's arms later that night in the comfort of their chambers, she watched as he fell asleep, unable to stay awake any longer.

It did not matter what place she called home, nor for how long she stayed there. Loki had been her home since they had first met all those years ago on that hot summer afternoon in these very chambers, the bored prince and the terrified slave.

It was funny, really, how Fate worked.

Sometimes it was for you, most of the time against you. But the ups always seemed to be better than the downs. And as long as she had him, there was nothing Fate could throw at her that she couldn't handle.

And that, really, was all that mattered.

She had her husband back.

She had Loki back.

So, she fell asleep in the safety of his embrace.

And they were happy once more.

* * *

 **It was bothering me that she didn't forgive him. I guess her feelings kind of reflected on my own in my own life. I guess forgiveness does come after a while. It just takes a lot of hurt to get there.**


	17. Chapter 17: Always

"I love you." Loki whispered.

"I know." Sorrow replied through the darkness. "I just don't understand why you always push me away."

Loki paused. "It's in my nature, I suppose."

Sorrow felt more hot tears slip out of her stinging eyes. "It doesn't have to be."

"I know."

It was silent for a long time, and yet neither of them could sleep. They laid there, awake, trying not to break their glass hearts even more, until finally, Loki broke the silence.

"Do you forgive me?" He whispered into her bare back.

She was quiet for a moment before she responded. "I will always forgive you."

"What if I hurt you again?"

"Do you plan on it?"

"No..."

"Then I guess we don't need to worry about it."

"Sorrow... do you love me, even though I hurt you so?"

"Loki, I will always love you."

* * *

 **I wrote this on a math worksheet during class while I was suppose to be working and thought it would be cute to post on here. I guess it goes with the last two stories :P I know I've done a lot on "Because of Words" and "Forgiveness," but I wrote it because of a real issue in my life dealing with forgiveness, so I guess I can't stop thinking about it. After I wrote this, however, I feel better (and think it's one of the most beautiful scenes I've ever written between them, even though it's the shortest.)**

 **I sacrificed an assignment for it cause I ain't turning it in and erasing it... so I hope you guys like it :)**

 **Comment!**

 **(I love your comments! I read every single one of them!)**

 **Favorite**

 **Follow**

 **:)**


	18. Chapter 18: A Beautiful Puddle

It was one of those nights where you could hear the rain pounding on the windows outside, smell the musty scent, feel the humidity. One of those nights where you felt a childish happiness in your heart for no particular reason.

The sky was grey, massive thunderclouds blocking out the moon, making the night pitch black. Every so often, lightning would crack across the sky, reaching a long, bright arm down to touch something tall. Sorrow loved rain. She loved the smell, the sound, the feel of it dense in the air. And so, when Loki dragged his feet through the door, sopping went after returning from a mission with Thor, she couldn't help but throw her arms around his drenched neck, kissing him joyfully.

Loki was shocked at her cheerful mood, because even though she wasn't negative all the time, she was very distant and calm. To feel her arms around him, her lips on his, made him laugh. "Why the warm welcome?"

"It's cold out. Why not a warm welcome?" Sorrow asked, kissing him again.

Loki dropped his sopping wet bag on the floor, twisting his hands through her soft hair. "Your dress is getting wet."

Sorrow rolled her beautiful blue eyes, which seemed to sparkle with happiness, before she let go. She sighed, looking at the water that was dripping onto the floor. "You'd better change into dry clothes." She laughed as Loki pulled her into his arms, soaking her even further.

"Or what?" He questioned. "Will you punish me?"

Sorrow tried to pull away from him as he planted wet kisses on the back of her neck. "Loki! My dress!"

Loki chuckled, releasing her. Sorrow placed one more kiss on his lips before announcing that now she had to change as well. Loki smirked triumphantly and went into the bathroom where his sleeping clothes were laid out for him, dry and soft after a long hot bath.

When he came out, Sorrow was sitting on their bed, reading a book. Her deep blue eyes skimmed the page, fully into the story. She was beautiful. Radiant. Serene. Loki sat on the bed beside her, wrapping his arms around her waist and pulling her into him. He breathed in her scent, which he realized was the scent of autumn. Rain, crisp apples.

After days of fighting and negotiating, travelling and hunting, he was glad to be home, feel his Queen's body in his arms. Sorrow melted into him, burying her face in his chest, the book forgotten. Loki remembered when he would have thought this preposterous. Him and his pride, alone in his room for years.

He chuckled, remembering how sour he had been.

Sorrow met his gaze, an eyebrow raised. "What?"

"Just thinking about how I was before I met you. How could you stand such a sour prince as I?"

Sorrow groaned. "Most of the time, I thought you'd kill me before I died of labor."

Loki pressed his forehead to hers. "And do you still believe that?"

Sorrow touched the side of his face. "No. Of course not."

Loki felt his smile edge away. "I was so terrible to you. The first time we met, I sent snakes to bite off your legs."

Sorrow laughed quietly. "When you put it that way, it sounds a lot worse than it was."

"What were you thinking? It was so hard to tell. I believe that is why I requested you as my maid in the first place."

Sorrow sighed. "I thought… well, I knew you enjoyed my pain. I was afraid you would punish me if I messed up. Do you remember when you healed me after Eirrah and Sadine cut and bruised my face?"

Loki nodded.

"I believe that is when I started to see you in a different light."

Loki hummed in response. "I still cannot fathom how lucky I am to have you."

Sorrow blushed, rose touching her cheeks. "I cannot comprehend how fortunate I am to have you, Loki."

A sudden and terrible thought hit Loki's head, making him wince at just the essence of the thought. "What if I had never met you? I would still be a selfish idiot, plotting futile attempts at revenge." Loki laughed bitterly. "I was so blind."

"Don't forget idle." Sorrow muttered.

Loki laughed, pulling her close once more. "Lucky for you, I am still toned and sexy as-"

Sorrow gasped in fake shock. "Loki!"

Loki chuckled. "Admit it. My sass isn't the only thing you admire."

Sorrow felt her face burning. "I've seen plenty of men shirtless. It isn't as though I am not used to strong men with nice bodies."

Loki stiffened, whispering in her ear. "But all the men here are burly and golden and stupid. I am not. So why, if there are so many other men who have fines bodies, do you fancy mine?" Sorrow stuttered before Loki spoke again. "I shall speak first, since we are being brutally honest." Loki grinned, feeling Sorrow squirm in discomfort. "Your eyes captivate me. When I run my hands along your luscious curves, when I taste the sweetness of your lips, when I revel in the scent of your skin, I think of nothing but pure perfection. With one simple kiss years ago, you ruined all others for me, for I tasted perfection. And so I ask, what is it that you find in me?"

Sorrow's tongue almost refused to work, hearing Loki confess his attraction towards her. She decided to push through it, knowing that Loki was playing with her, but also listening for her thoughts of him. "To be… brutally honest… as you put it… I don't know what it is, maybe I do, but you make me…" She searched for the right words. "Excited. You make me feel things. Happiness, embarrassment, joy. And yes, you do have a nice body, dear husband of mine. I'm not a silvertongue like you… and you might think this strange or maybe put a dent on your ego… but I think you beautiful." Loki raised an eyebrow at this. "So many other men in this realm are burly and tough and thick, handsome. But you are elegant

and lean and toned, with the grace and skill of an elven warrior, not a thickheaded brute. You're smart, charming, easy to share my thoughts with, more dashing than Fandral, have more wit than anyone else. And, yes. You are sexy."

Loki grinned. "Beautiful… dashing… charming… sexy… Keep going, darling. I could listen to your voice of gold all night."

"Alright. You're dramatic, ridiculous, exasperating, and hard to not fight with. You are extremely sarcastic, turn a lot in your sleep, judge people based on their mortality-"

Loki shushed her with a finger to her lips. "And you, my dear, are stubborn, hard to get information from, introverted, and you are so silent at night I sometimes wonder whether you are even there."

Sorrow pressed her finger to Loki's lips, as he had done to her. "At least I hold my tongue, dearest mine."

Loki grinned, kissing her finger tip. "At least I have a voice, my ravishing Queen."

Sorrow smiled. "At least I know how to clean."

"At least I know how to defend myself."

"At least I know how to bathe myself without calling a servant for help."

"At least I know how to plan battle strategies for an entire kingdom."

"At least I'm part Vanir."

Loki's eyebrows rose. "You are part Vanir?"

"Yes. My mother… and supposedly my father are both from Vaneheim." Sorrow spoke softly, meeting his disbelieving gaze.

"Erick is not from Vaneheim, the last time I checked."

Sorrow ran her finger down the side of his face to his chin. "My real father."

Loki gazed deeply into her eyes for a moment before shaking his head. "I can only see you. I do not see Aesir, Vanir, Elven, Mortal… nothing. I see Sorrow, my Queen."

Sorrow blushed. "I wish I could say things so well as to flatter someone."

Loki tucked a few strands of brown hair behind her ear, kissing her forehead. "Sorrow, you need not speak words to flatter, for your very presence kisses my mind."

Sorrow buried her face in the crook of Loki's neck, her cheeks rosy. "There you are again. Charming."

"And here you are again, enchanting."

Sorrow laughed quietly, Loki feeling her breath on his neck. "Stop now, Loki, before I melt into a puddle."

"You would be a beautiful puddle."

* * *

 **Okay, this one is SOOOOO CHEESY. I know. I know. But come on! I couldn't help myself. :D**

 **I hope you enjoyed it!**

 **Comment**

 **Favorite**

 **Follow**

 **:)**


	19. Chapter 19: Of Slaves and Freedom

Thor and Jane sat just down the table from Loki, who was at the far end with his nose buried in a book with strange runes on the cover. Thor couldn't help but watch his brother, sitting alone and reading. Just like when they had been children.

Thor watched Loki's content face, perfectly fine with sitting there alone.

Jane touched his shoulder. "So…. I've been studying that rainbow bridge of yours, and I think I almost have it figured out."

"What do you mean?" Thor asked, confusion edging his voice.

"It's not magic, of course. It's just a matter of time before I'll be able to explain the science behind it."

They both turned as they heard Loki scoff, setting the book he had been reading on the table without bothering to mark the page he had been on. "Mortals…" He muttered, looking almost offended.

"There is no such thing as magic! It's just science that hasn't been explained yet."

Loki smirked and held out his hand, palm up. A green flame flickered to life, dancing and leaping, casting an eery glow around his arm. "Explain this, then. With your science, of course."

"It has to be some sort of illusion or technology you've developed." Jane replied curtly.

Loki rolled his eyes. "Oh, yes. Very intelligent of you. This is a technology. You see so much technology here, don't you? Wires, light bulbs, computers. Oh, wait! Perhaps I stole it from Midgard a thousand years ago!"

Jane flushed red indignantly. "You can't be older than thirty!"

Loki burst out laughing, not being able to suppress the urge. He almost choked on his laughter. Jane glared at him. "The sad truth, my dear sister, is that both Thor and I are over a thousands years old!"

Jane looked at Thor who shrugged, rather sheepishly. "What?!" She hissed.

Just then, as if she was meant to spare them all from never talking to each other again, Sorrow slipped gracefully into the room. Loki instinctively sat a little straighter. The small woman sat right next to him, smiling. "What are you arguing about now?" She asked calmly.

Loki cleared his throat, gesturing to Jane. "That mortal-"

Sorrow's look sharpened.

"-Jane… believes there is no such thing as magic. That it is just a trick. An illusion or technology."

Sorrow laughed softly. "Play nicely." She commented.

"How nice?" Loki grinned.

Sorrow thumped his arm playfully.

Thor and Jane were both watching them. Jane spoke up. "Wait! I thought you were like, 21 or something!" She said incredulously to Sorrow.

Sorrow's brows furrowed in confusion. "What?"

"Both Thor and Loki are over a thousand years old! And you're only twenty-something!"

Sorrow looked over at Loki, then at Thor. "I thought she knew?"

"Knew what?" Jane asked nervously.

"The Aesir can live up to thousands of years old. We generally reference the maturity of our body when talking about age. After the first few centuries, we lose track of the exact number of years we've lived. As an answer to your question, I'm not 'twenty-something' in mortal years. I'm over a thousand years old as well."

Jane's jaw dropped as Loki barked out a laugh. Thor put a reassuring hand on Jane's shoulder, but the ex-mortal was already panicking. "You were a slave for a thousand years?!"

Sorrow flushed red and Loki stiffened, glaring daggers at Jane. He was about to snap at the puny ex-mortal, but Sorrow smiled. "No. I wasn't a slave my whole life. Just a few centuries."

Jane gaped. "B-but… that's inhumane! Slavery is just…. a completely disgusting thing! Everyone should be free!"

Sorrow sighed. "That may be how it is from where you come from, but we are not like you. Many are fine with slavery. Honsetly, if you think about it, it provides many poor people with shelter, food, clothes, a job. All it requires is…. absolute obedience."

"How can you be fine with slavery?! Didn't you hate being a slave?"

Sorrow's eyes flitted down to her lap, the room silent, listening intently. "More than anything." She whispered.

"Then why are you fine with it?"

"I'm not." Sorrow responded, a snap hidden in her tone. "I was starved, beaten, treated like I was nothing more than a plaything. I am not at all fine with it. I am merely stating that it does provide many people with essentials that they would not get otherwise. A meal once a week is better than nothing at all."

"Once a week..." Jane whispered, her eyes widening. She suddenly turned to Thor, glaring. "Once a week?! You're the Crown Prince. Couldn't you have done something about that?"

"No. The slaves, if given any more freedom than they have, would start to rebel. It has happened before."

Sorrow averted her eyes from Thor's, suddenly feeling very small, very slave-like once more. Servants came into the room, and Sorrow recognized all of them. They brought trays to the table, trays of food. She wondered if she was the only one who knew the hunger they felt, the weakness. "Autumn?" Sorrow asked the woman who set the food tray in front of her.

Autumn was quiet, but nodded. As was respectful. "Yes, Sorrow? I mean, Lady Sorrow." Sorrow would have expected her tone to be biting and hostile, but it was honest and kind as it had always been.

"How is everyone? Has anyone… left us recently?" They were talking in hushed voices.

"Yes. Old Maid Mayda had a heart attack. She was buried out in the slave fields yesterday."

Sorrow felt a lump grow in her throat, her heart beating with pain. Mayda had been a very strict, but motherly figure to all of them. Always there to give advice, whether it be how to ease the hunger pains or wrap the lacerations on your back. That's where Sorrow had learned to wrap up her own back, clean fast and efficiently, not have such a loudly growling stomach. Even the guards had respect for Old Mayda.

Autumn continued, seemingly not caring that she was at a table full of royal people who were listening intently to the conversation. "It's hard to think of Old Mayda gone."

Sorrow nodded silently. "She was like a… a mother."

"Grumpy old woman that she was." Autumn sighed, shaking her head. "We think it was the stress."

Sorrow agreed. "How many chores did she have assigned that day?"

"About ten, if I remember right."

Sorrow winced. The most she had ever had in a day was six. And that had kept her up until the next morning. "I guess the cruelty rises with age. Was the Head Maid angry at her?"

Autumn laughed sourly. "She's mad at everyone, all the time." Her features softened. She put a hand on Sorrow's shoulder. "Midnight. At the old tree."

"Thank you." Sorrow whispered, tapping her finger three times on the table. Autumn nodded, tapping Sorrow's shoulder twice. "Take care."

"You too, my lady." Autumn smiled quietly, a hint of playfulness. Then, she was gone.

Sorrow studied her hands, not caring that the table had gone quiet, listening to her conversation. The old tree was where the slaves buried the elder slaves. The ones who had somehow made it that far in life. And for each slave that died, their friends would sing them into the heavens. Sorrow had only been to two. She was sure quite a few would be there to sing Mayda to the heavens.

"Who was that?" Jane asked.

Sorrow slowly looked up at her. "Autumn. A friend."

"No… Mayda."

Sorrow sighed, taking an apple from the tray and studying it. "She was like a mother to us. She was stubborn and grumpy, but old. She taught us how to deal with our hunger and fatigue. She'd put an arm around us while we cried, made sure that we all behaved. She taught us how to wrap our wounds, smuggled us bandages. When she heard one of us got a whipping, she'd leave us bandages and ointment, since she was friends with the Head Healer, Eir. When a new batch of children would arrive, she'd show them how things ran so that they didn't get beaten for messing up their schedule. Because children younger than eight can't get whipped, their immune systems not strong enough to deal with it. Mayda was like a Goddess to us."

Loki twined his hand through hers, their fingers locked.

Jane was quiet, for once. And, not surprisingly, it was Thor who asked the next stupid question. "How many times did you meet the whip?"

Sorrow's eyes bored into Thor's, Loki stayed silent. "Meet? You say that as if it were a casual acquaintance… like it should be expected for a slave to get whipped."

Thor cleared his throat, sitting up straighter. "Well… the slaves need to be kept in line somehow."

Sorrow pursed her lips, staring down at her hands. She placed them on the table for all three to see, even though Loki already knew them well. They were scarred and calloused from years of labour. Yet the skin had a strange softness to it. "You have never had to scrub a floor until your hands were bloody and split, working on three hours of sleep only until it feels as though your back will snap in half. And just when you realize you are almost done, there's a guard or noble there to mock you, to dirty your work. Or the Head Maid, thrusting another rag into your bloody hands and telling you to polish the walls.

"And after that, when you know that you will only get a few precious hours of sleep, you drag yourself back to your small room that you share with forty other slaves. And you sleep on a slab of stone.

And then you are expected to wake three hours later on your own. If you don't wake on time, you get five lashes, now go scrub the floor again, go clean the Prince's rooms, go clean the extra scraps of food in the kitchen and feed them to the pigs, because even the pigs have a higher status than you, and you'll never get anything more to eat than moldy oatmeal or rock hard bread once every night.

And because you just offended the Head Maid with your presence, you get the back of your clothing torn open, something you'll have to repair later, and a guard is fetched. And they hold a bull whip over your back like you're nothing more than an animal, and you can feel it coming, hear the creak of the leather right before it slices through your already mutilated flesh, promising infection and weakness and misery. And the guard laughs at you and kicks you to the ground and grinds his dirty boot into your bloody mess of a back. And you know nobody will help you up after the guard and Head Maid leaves, because WE'RE ALL TOO AFRAID TO LIFT A FINGER THAT ISN'T DOING A CHORE!

And after that, wrap yourself up in some smuggled in bandages, try to sleep through the pain, and get up the next day to find out that you've been assigned the task of hauling logs and boulders to build stuff.

And sometimes, one of your partners will catch the eye of a guard and they'll disappear and come back soaked in blood and sobbing, some not caring because they're used to it. And only then do we slaves help one another! We ring the blood out of the girl's dress and stitch it up and help her get through the pain and humiliation. That happened to a little six year old once. It killed her. The _NOBLE_ was so brutal that he beat her to death after he humiliated her IN FRONT OF US!

You know that you belong to someone else. That you are not even Aesir. You are not Vanir or Dwarven or Elven or Mortal. You are dirt. And you wouldn't last a week as a slave, Thor Odinson. You have been trained in the arts of battle and killing. But what about those who prepare you for it? Those who make your meals and draw your baths and saddle your horse and polish your sword?! You know NOTHING ABOUT BEING A SLAVE!

I have MET the whip MANY times. I have the memories and scars to prove it. And you will never know what it is like because you haven't ever been whipped into servitude. You say us slaves have too much freedom?! WE. HAVE. NONE."

And with that, Sorrow stormed away from the table, her nails biting her palms and her breath short, her face red with anger. Nobody had ever heard her speak like that, shout like that. Except once. And that was at Brandt.

Thor's mouth was open, his eyes blinking, trying to comprehend what she had just said. Jane was sobbing. And Loki. Loki was standing up, going after his wife, knowing that Thor meant no harm, but was only an oaf at heart.

He finally found her in their chambers. She was quiet, sitting on their bed, staring at their blankets.

He sat next to her.

And put his arm around her.

And pulled her into an embrace.

And was quiet as she sobbed her guilt for leaving the other slaves behind to such a life. For blowing up at Thor as she had. For crying.

And when she was done, Loki lifted her chin and he kissed her. "My Queen." He whispered. "If I must, I will do everything in my power to see that your nightmares and the nightmares of all slaves cease. I will find a way."

* * *

 **So I was going to edit out the whole part with Autumn and Old Maid Mayda, but I figure I'll give a little bit to the slave characters I mentioned once or twice in the original story. I mentioned Autumn maybe once, as Thor's slave. You guys should remember Mayda, but it's okay if you don't. Anyways, I know this is kinda unlike Sorrow to blow up like that, but if you think about it, her slave years were pretty dark times for her, and to keep it all sunny skies in her life is unrealistic. She's been through too much to keep it bottled up. Everyone needs an outlet.**

 **Comment**

 **Favorite**

 **Follow**

 **;)**


	20. Chapter 20: Too Familiar

Loki groaned, light flooding his senses. His vision was doubled, slowly lapsing into a single image. He blinked a few times, rubbing his temple as he sat up. He felt a hand on his shoulder, pushing him back down, telling him he needed rest.

But something felt wrong. He couldn't remember how he got here. He opened his eyes again, focusing on Thor's face. He looked worried, his brow etched with concern. Loki tried to identify the other people in the room, but their names came slowly to him, almost too slow.

Frigga… Jane… Sif… And… And… who was that? A smaller woman with brown hair, striking blue eyes, lying on the bed opposite him, the same look of confusion. Loki felt as though he knew her. His heart leapt, but his mind pulled back, refusing to spit out a name. She was familiar. Too familiar. They locked eyes for just a split second before she seemed to snap out of the trance and look away, blushing, her eyes lowering to the floor.

Not something a lover would do… something a servant would. Was she his servant? And if so, why was she in the same room as him? Usually sexes were separated in the Healing Halls. Loki turned his head, looking at Thor, realizing his brother had been saying something the whole time. Loki interrupted, nodding his head towards the servant girl, who now looked mortified. "Who is that?" He asked. His voice was a little rough, his throat dry. He cleared his throat, his mother handing him a glass of water.

Everyone in the room seemed to freeze. They looked back at the woman, who looked so uncomfortable that Loki swore she was about to flee.

Thor looked a little panicked. "Loki, if this is some sort of ruse, it is no longer amusing."

Loki shook his head, pinching the bridge of his nose as he tried to think of who she was, who she might be. The only thing that came to mind was the fact that she was a servant, just by her body language. Frustration stabbed at his mind.

The others could see that Loki wasn't joking. Sif placed a hand on Thor's shoulder. "He is not jesting."

Loki's eyes wandered over the uneasy people surrounding his bed. His gaze settled on the woman. He tried reaching deep within his mind, looking for anything. Anything. A peasant on the street, a servant in the halls, a maid from the kitchens. Nothing came to mind. It felt as though there was something blocking the memories. There were gaps in his story, thoughts that were blocked, images blurred. He shook his head again, clutching his blankets. Why did it bother him so much that he couldn't remember her? She should be no more than a passing thought. She might just be another patient.

But the looks the others were giving him said otherwise.

Frigga sat on the bed, the mattress sinking under her weight. She took Loki's hand. "Sorrow. Her name is Sorrow. Do you remember who she is?"

Sorrow. That name… sounded… familiar. Sorrow. He looked at her again. She was looking at him, just as confused as he was. Jane was at her side, asking the same question. Loki watched her lips move as she said his title, then his name. "Prince Loki." She could remember his name, but Loki had not remembered hers.

"Sorrow?" He had said her name before. He could feel the familiarity of her name roll of his tongue perfectly. "Who is she?" Loki asked finally, unable to reach any memories.

"Your wife."

Loki choked on the air coming into his lungs. He started coughing, sputtering to find any words to say, any to describe his… his… disgust. He was married? When in Bor's name had he gotten married?! After his coughing fit was over, he could only sit there and stare at Frigga. "I'm… I am married?" Loki asked slowly, still trying to wrap his mind around the situation. This was not right. Loki had not gotten married. He was pretty sure he would have remembered something like that.

"Yes." Frigga and Thor both said at once.

Loki's gaze finally shifted over to "Sorrow", who was clutching Jane's hand a little too tightly, her mouth parted slightly, her eyes wide as she gazed back at him, trying to connect the pieces, but failing. Loki looked up at Thor. "Tell me I do not have children."

Thor patted Loki's back, trying to calm him down. "No. You do not have children."

Loki fell back onto his pillow, closing his eyes. "This is all a dream. A strange, terrible dream." He muttered over and over. "I'm not married. Why would I get married? More confusing yet, what fool would agree to marry me? I'm not… I'm not…" Loki sat back up.

"Are you saying that I am a married man?"

Sif rolled her eyes. "Yes."

"So, I am a man who has married?"

"Yes." Sif said again.

"I have been bound in holy matrimony to another-"

"Yes." Sif growled.

Loki bit out a laugh. "Then where is my ring?" Loki hadn't yet looked at his hands. His laugh died in his throat when he saw it, the golden ring gleaming on his finger. A simple wedding band with runes etched onto it. Runes that said prosperity, health, love, happiness. Loki's eyes shot to Sorrow's hands, which had a matching gold band with a diamond.

Loki shook his head over and over. "Married?"

"YES." Sif stated the final time. "Get over it already."

Loki realized he hadn't heard Sorrow say one word since Jane had asked her who he was. Loki tipped his chin up in defiance, his eyes narrowed. "Then tell me, Sorrow, why I can't even place your name, yet you knew mine."

Everyone turned their heads to look at her. Sorrow rubbed her palms nervously. A prince. She was married to a prince. How had that happened? She was just a slave… wasn't she? Wait. Her mother had adopted her, hadn't she? Then Sorrow shouldn't have to look at the floor the whole time. She watched as the Prince denied it over and over, asking again and again if he was really married. Then, he looked straight at her, almost angry, and asked her how she knew his name. "You are a prince, my lord. Of-of course I know your name."

Something in the air seemed to sink.

Frigga stood up. "It seems we have all had a confusing day. Let us rest. Perhaps you two will remember in the morning after a good night's sleep. Frigga ushered everyone out, leaving only Thor in the room because Loki had called his name before he could leave. He sat on the chair by Loki's bed, looking back and forth between the two, who now seemed set on avoiding each other's gaze.

"How did we…" Loki sighed, rubbing his temple.

"Meet?" Thor finished.

Loki nodded, both Loki and Sorrow trying hard not to feel awkward about being talked about, as if they were in separate rooms, but both part of the same conversation.

Thor looked at Sorrow, then back at Loki. "You were somewhat of a recluse after you were released from your punishment. You enjoyed, as I remember it, 'picking on petty slaves for amusement'. I do not know exactly what happened as you hadn't told me the whole story, but she was your chambermaid. You had requested her because she… I do not know… I think because she intrigued you. I know not of your relationship, but you walked in the gardens with her and took her to the library almost daily."

"So, we married out of love? It was not arranged?" Loki asked.

Thor chuckled, obviously amused. "Arranged? Absolutely not. I remember you telling me that you would burn worlds just to see her smile."

Sorrow blushed, her blue eyes sparing a glance at Loki, to see that he was uncomfortable, his own face heated a little. "Why can we not remember?" Sorrow asked.

Thor sighed, leaning back in his chair. "Sacrifice."

Both Loki and Sorrow's brows furrowed.

"We were on Midgard. A sorcerer came after you, brother. He said you had played him for a fool one too many times. The man cast some sort of spell on me, so that I may not move. Then, he attacked you, not thinking of Sorrow. The Avengers were all out on some mission, so Stark tower was empty besides. You fought bravely, and eventually had the man on his knees, ready to beg for mercy when he rammed his spear into your stomach. I could not move, or I would have killed the man, for he laughed and cast another spell on both you and Sorrow, saying that only a true love's kiss could break it. And then, he disappeared."

Sorrow met Thor's gaze. "Where does sacrifice come into this?"

"You, Lady Sorrow. After Loki went down, the spell had not yet taken full effect. You somehow saved him, but you exhausted all of your energy doing so. I feared that you had died yet again, but you both were in a deep sleep. You and my brother have been asleep for nearly thirty days."

"Wait… my so-called 'wife' saved me?"

"Yes. It is a back and forth type of thing with you both. You will save her, she will save you, then you will save her again. I remember this one time on Alfheim, Sigyn tried to seduce you and-"

Loki cleared his throat. "Thank you… I believe I will sleep now."

Thor stood up, sadness in his gaze. "Brother, Lady Sorrow, you should know that your marriage, the memories you have lost… they are worth finding again. I knew not about many of the things which transpired, but I do know this. You were both happy." And with that, Thor left the room.

But Loki didn't sleep. And neither did Sorrow. Loki glared at her, making sure she was looking when he took off his ring and set it on the table. "I have no idea who you are. I am not married to you, not until I can remember. Otherwise, this is all a game. So tell me, Sorrow, tell me the truth. If you are my wife, if we truly did marry out of love, then you would know exactly what happened the night I fell from the Bifrost."

Sorrow's eyes flitted from Loki to the ring, she twisted her own off her finger, fiddling with it. "I… I do not…" But then, the words came to her. She had heard them before, she knew it. "You never wanted the throne." She whispered. "You fell from the Bifrost after your fight with Thor."

Loki scoffed at her. "I knew it! You know about as much as anyone else-"

"And Thor caught you. And Odin caught Thor. Odin rejected you, and you let go. No Loki." Sorrow whispered.

Loki's eyes widened before narrowing. "Thor could have told you that."

Sorrow shook her head. "I don't know how else to prove it to you. I am just as lost."

Her voice was soft. Loki's heart knew her voice. Apparently, his heart knew everything about her, for his heart recognized her, but his mind knew her not. Loki forced a glare back onto his face, though it didn't come naturally. They sat there quietly. Loki watched her. She watched him. Neither of them was tired.

Loki stood from his bed, clasping his hands behind his back and pacing the room. What was going on? Was this really happening? He knew it shouldn't be this big of a deal… but he had been married before, to Sigyn. That hadn't exactly turned out that well. So why, after everything, would he get married again? She must have been quite special to have caught his eye.

He looked her up and down as she continued to stare at him. Fine… he could not deny it. She was… attractive, to say the least. Her blue eyes were full of infinite patience and experience, sparkling like a sapphire in the light of a dancing flame. Her brown hair fell a little past her shoulders, wavy and sun-bleached. Her red lips were naturally turned down, into a frown. She was fairly small. While standing, she could probably, just barely, reach his collar bone.

And yet, there was something else about her. Something… elegant. Ethereal almost. Her features were smooth, well rounded, naturally graceful. Somehow, he could tell she had not had an easy life. Perhaps it was the nearly invisible scar on her cheek that resembled what a dagger blade would leave, or the way her eyes had fallen to the floor earlier, as if she had forgotten that she wasn't a servant.

Wait. How could he guess all these things? He had always been skilled at deduction, but this was almost ridiculous. She could have been a normal Asgardian, lowering her eyes in respect to her Prince. And yet, his first thought had been that she was his servant, something Thor had confirmed. He shook his head again, realizing two things. One, that he had been staring at her for the last five minutes and that she was blushing. And two, that the longer he looked at her, the more beautiful she became.

What had started out as a nervous woman who had been his servant, apparently his wife now, had turned into one of the most beautiful creatures he had ever seen. He had never, in his life, found anyone so appealing in so short a time. "Is there something on my face?" She asked, snapping him out of the second daze he had fallen into in the last five minutes.

This sparked some sort of memory. It was sunny. She was walking next to him, they were talking, laughing. She had asked the very same question. The memory faded into the recesses of his mind, though he could now remember something about her. He shook his head. "No, why?"

"You're staring." Sorrow stated, the same memory coming to her mind.

It was quiet for a few more minutes before Loki cleared his throat. "I suggest we both get some sleep. We will talk further in the morning."

Sorrow nodded, slowly lying back down, her head resting on her pillow. Loki watched out of the corner of his eyes as she tossed and turned for a few more minutes before sitting up quietly, reaching for a hair tie that someone had left on her bedside table, and braided her hair. Loki's hands tingled, remembering the feel of her hair. Was that strange? That he remembered everything about her but who she was? In fact, he was pretty sure he had braided her hair before. He shivered. No. He hadn't. This was all an illusion. She was probably some enchantress hired to trick him, a prank from Thor and his friends… and his mother.

Sorrow laid back down and Loki tried to keep his eyes closed, tried not to look at her. But his senses were flooded. Her eyes were already closed, though he could tell she was not asleep yet.

She. Was. Too. Familiar.

Loki's hands clenched into fists. No. This was not right. He had just barely woken up. Surely, in the morning light, she would look completely different. It was the dark playing tricks on him.

* * *

 **Should I continue? Yay? Nay? What say you?**

 **Comment!**

 **Favorite!**

 **And**

 **Follow!**

 **:)**


	21. Chapter 21: We're Free

A hot breeze dragged its silky hand through the streets of Asgard that day. The sun was high in the sky, not a cloud to be seen. The trees and flowers seemed to tremble with excitement, their soft green leaves and petals reaching up towards the sun as if to proclaim their anticipation.

The people of Asgard, however, felt no difference. The day was hot as it had been for the past few months. The afternoon thunderstorm promised by King Thor was on the horizon, ready to replenish their gardens, drinking wells, and animals. But as the people watched and waited for the storm to grow closer, water buckets in hand, it seemed as though it wasn't moving at all. As if the King had halted it in place for some reason.

That was the first sign of something new that day. The stubborn people tapped a foot impatiently, their patience growing increasingly thin as they waited. And waited. And waited.

Soon, however, the gates the the palace opened with a mighty boom, a few men on horseback racing into the center of the city. Their golden armor glinted in the sun, their strong stallions galloping fiercely, ropes of muscle shifting as their strong legs carried them where their masters guided.

A crowd of Asgardians began forming as the men slowed to a stop, a scroll in the hand of the Captain of the Guard, Haftor.

 _"People of Asgard,"_

 _"Long have our ways been set in those of the past. For millennia our grand kingdom has prospered. We have conquered our enemies with ease and succeeded in becoming the most powerful of the nine realms."_

 _"Asgard was built upon the roots of the very Tree of Yggdrasil. We as a people stand upon this great power with fairness and strength. And so, my people, it has come to my attention the need for fairness concerning those who are in bondage."_

 _"Slaves, both male and female, shall from this moment in time be a free people. Those who are caught in the act of buying, selling, or the shipping of living beings for the intent of slavery shall be sent to the dungeons. Those who own slaves shall be compensated for their loss. Those with slaves living on their premises and working for such shall be forced to pay their slaves the same as a maid or servant. Any man or woman caught punishing these freed slaves cruelly, such as flogging, shall be sentenced to the dungeons. "_

 _"So has Asgard thrived on the backs of Slaves, but no more. Any man or woman belonging to another Asgardian from this time forward, is a free person."_

 _"-King Thor"_

Captain Haftor posted the proclamation on a golden post in the middle of the town square.

There was a dead silence amongst the people, a shock so great that nobody could speak. Then, all at once, the anger began, thrumming through the air, directed at the poor Captain, who tried to answer as many questions as possible.

He was met with this same response of anger in every town he visited, proclaiming the same thing. Some towns had already heard the news, as it spread like a wildfire in a cotton field. Some of the slaves in town, however, hearing the proclamation fell to their knees and wept with joy, kissing the ground and praising the very Fates of Yggdrasil.

* * *

Loki knew there would soon be a crowd of angry people outside the city gates, but he would let Thor deal with them for now.

His heart was striking against his rib cage, his hands shaking the tiniest bit as he held a copy of the proclamation rolled up in his hand. He tapped it against his palm before making his way to his chambers where he knew Sorrow would be.

He, Thor, and all the council members had been working on this proclamation for a year now, and all he could feel was relief that it had finally passed.

He had promised Sorrow he would find a way to help the slaves. And this was it. They were all being set free. Every palace slave would be free to leave or stay as they chose. Those who stayed to work for the palace were to be paid as a normal servant would, and they would be provided with better beds and meals to do so.

Loki knew that most if not all the slaves would stay. They had nowhere to go, no money to get anywhere, and no food to take with them. That was why the slaves owned by other people would be paid, and those who didn't pay their now freed slaves would be punished.

Loki knew the Aesir would be furious about this, as slaves had been providing Asgard with free, lifelong service for millions of years.

But no more.

The slaves would no longer be punished with whips or shackles. Their doors wouldn't be locked at night, and they would be provided with fresh bathing water whenever needed.

It would cost a lot, but nothing Asgard couldn't manage. They were the richest of the nine realms, and Loki predicted that with the freed slaves earning their own money, they would soon be able to add to the economy and make Asgard more wealthy and prosperous than ever.

It would take time and patience, however.

Loki stopped in front of his chamber doors, wondering how Sorrow would react to the news. It was because of her that all of this had happened. If she hadn't shown Thor what was really going on, then slavery would have continued as it always had.

He opened the door, closing it behind him as he entered his rooms.

"Sorrow?"

The woman came into the room and smiled. "You're home early. How was work?"

Loki swallowed at the lump in his throat, trying desperately to contain his excitement. She had no idea what was about to happen. Loki walked slowly towards her, trying to keep a solemn face, as if something bad had happened. He wanted to tease her a little before delivering such huge news.

Sorrow's eyebrows creased in concern, her blue eyes sparkling with worry. "Are you alright? Did something happen?"

Loki handed her the piece of paper, her heavily calloused hands unrolling it as she started to read. A grin spread over Loki's face as his excitement finally broke through. He waited for her reaction.

* * *

When she was done reading it, she slowly looked up at him, meeting his gaze. Her face was blank, her eyes clouded over. "So? What do you think?" Loki asked.

Finally, Sorrow's ocean blue eyes began to brim with tears, her hands gripping the paper in a white-knuckled grip, crushing the paper in her hands as her soul seemed to burn within her very being, lighting her heart on fire and letting it burn to coals. "Is this true?" She asked, her voice rough, breaking like a glass vase.

Loki nodded. He rested his hands on her forearms.

Sorrow broke down. She buried her face in his chest and wept, centuries of buried frustration finally flooding out of her heart. Her head spun, her legs growing weak as Loki buried his face in her neck, his fingers gently running over her scars, feeling all that pain as it surfaced.

"We're free." She whispered.

She had never truly thought of herself as anything but a slave. And she had never forgiven herself for leaving them behind and living a life of luxury and freedom.

But they were free. She was free. That word slammed into her mind again and again as her heart beat with unease at the strangeness of the word. Free. No longer bound by chains, no more chains. No more whips, no more scars. No more hunger, no more pain.

She was Free.

They all were.


End file.
